L'etre et L'ame
by LaRenne
Summary: Bella's birthday ends in bloodshed--and not just from a paper cut. In the aftermath of Bella's unexpected, and unintentional, transformation, she and Jasper learn to negotiate their new relationship and what it means.
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER I

On the afternoon of her sixteenth birthday, Bella Swan hit a car. It was, perhaps, fortunate that she wasn't driving—wasn't even _in_ a car herself. She had been standing with her mother at an intersection several blocks from downtown Phoenix after a girls-day-out lunch at _Pour la France_ (Renee was at the height of her short-lived francophilia), when a Subaru Outback pulled around the corner behind her. Bella, who was looking the other direction, stepped directly into the side of the passing import.

The only reason she knew something was wrong was that she felt nothing at all. One moment there was sunshine and chatter and a pleasant fullness in her tummy, and in the next everything blinked out of existence.

Finally, silence gave way to a small hum, and the blackness to a sizzling gray. And, mercifully, there was no pain at first, just an aggravating sensation like a sleeping appendage, which threatened to become much, _much_ worse. And did.

So the experience on Bella's eighteenth birthday was not entirely new to her. The most important difference was that Jasper was at least a dozen times more powerful than the car, and he had _meant_ to hit her.

A tiny swell of blood appeared on her finger, and as she made to poke it into her mouth, there was a sudden rush of air, and Edward's voice raised in a terrified shout.

Then, someone snapped her off like a light switch, and turned her back on slowly, using a rheostat. Beyond the darkness in her head Bella heard frightening mechanical noises, like angry machinery and gears stripping. Furious voices, words she couldn't understand. She wanted to wave them to a stop, but every limb was crammed full of wet sand and too heavy to lift. Then, so very slowly, a fire kindled at her shoulder and licked its way down her arm. The body memory was so terrifying it awakened her sense of sight.

The first thing Bella identified were two fierce looking points of amber just above her. Next came the flared nostrils and the determined set of the mouth. Carlisle. Her tight-angle vision exploded suddenly into a panoramic shot.

She was lying on the floor with Carlisle kneeling at her right side. To her left, Esme looked down on her, trembling, lips pulled tightly into her mouth. She looked like she wanted to speak, but only swallowed, and Bella realized she wasn't breathing.

Carlisle was, however. In fact, he gasped and turned away, eyes pinched closed, in obvious pain. As if this were a reminder to her stunned nerves, a shot of blinding pain tore through down Bella's right arm and she groaned.

"I'm sorry. It's going to take a bit longer." With a growl of determination, Carlisle buried his face against Bella and the pain swelled again. His blonde hair tickled against her nostrils and eyelids, as he pressed his mouth again to her shoulder.

"Emse!"

"I'm here, sweetheart." The words were strained, but welcome, and Bella's vision faded as Esme's pale hand advanced to stroke her face. The pain was blinding, and she wished she could just succumb to unconsciousness, to wake up only when it was all over. And then she realized--

"Stop! Stop, Carlisle." Bella dug her heel into the floor, trying ineffectively to scootch herself away. "Please, stop!"

Carlisle rose to view again, framed by her shrinking window of vision, but it was hardly the face she recognized. His youthful features were twisted and warped--almost unrecognizable. She had never before seen his face bearing the traces of exertion and strain.

Summoning what energy she had, Bella raised her left hand, and she watched it pass over her chest, until Carlisle's fingers closed around it.

"Let it happen," she said. "There's no way for us. Me and Ed—" her plea was torn by a scream as the burning picked up speed, roaring around the bend in her elbow.

"Oh, Bella." Esme cupped her cheek.

"It can't work if I'm human. I have to change." She groaned again and slammed her heel into the wooden floor to try to offset the pain in her arm. "Right?" Bella demanded.

She felt, rather than saw, Esme's tiny nod. "Yes."

"Are you sure this is what you want?" Carlisle asked. "You want to be a vampire?"

"I want Edward." The fire inside of her seemed to bubble now, like the roiling of a volcano before it erupts. Something passed between Carlisle and Esme, more than a look--an exchange too low for Bella to hear, and their silence spurred an anger that raged through her, a worthy rival for the venom-burn.

"Yes, I want to be a vampire!" she screamed. Then, her vision went black again, resolving slowly to red, as the glowing lava began its slow creep into her fingers and chest.

"We're here. We won't leave you."

Bella couldn't tell who spoke the words. Couldn't even bring herself to care.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER II

Every molecule of Jasper's body crackled. He buzzed painfully from his lips through the sensitive arches of his feet. He could see nothing and scarcely recognized the wet, smacking sounds as he frantically sucked his lips and teeth. The restraining arms of Edward and Emmett were like iron bands around his own as they hurtled him through the forest, away from the house. It had taken both of them to pry his jaws apart and pull him from Bella. There were no independent sensations anymore, just the intensity of Edward's and Emmett's struggle him, which he could sense from inside his own body and from without.

There was only one fixed point, one safe place in the maelstrom that raged around him--Alice. She was somewhere near by. He could taste her grief and fear--potent as the lingering traces of Bella's blood in his mouth.

"Jasper. Jazz." Alice's breath brushed against his neck and her hand lay against his chest. They had stopped moving --because he had stopped struggling, he realized--and he was suddenly crippled by another emotion. Fury.

He didn't have to see Edward's face to read his savage anger; he had no doubt Edward would snap his arm off, given the slightest provocation. In fact, provocation might be wholly unnecessary, he thought, as Edward's grip tightened even as Emmett's slackened.

"Carlisle and Esme are with her," Alice was saying. "I think. . . we were in time."

Jasper blinked down at her, fighting to put meaning to the words as his blood lust began its slow wane. How could Alice possibly say they'd been "in time?" In time to what? Keep him from draining Bella dry? His snarled at himself—his hair-trigger blood-instinct had been too sensitive for even Edward to read. It was not thought but animal instinct that drove him when the tiny slit in Bella's finger swelled with red. The memory hit him deep in the belly, and a split-second later Edward had his arm pinned brutally against his spine.

"Let me go, damn it! I'm leaving!"

"Good," Edward spat, and he pushed him away so hard that Jasper's other arm slid right out of Emmett's grasp. Alice just managed to step out of the way before her lover could plow into her. The momentum carried him a good thirty yards, before he could turn to glare at Edward, who in turn dropped into a crouch, slavering for a fight. Before he could spring, however, Emmett landed on him, slamming him face-first into the forest floor.

"This doesn't help anything!" Emmett was perched on Edward's back like a vulture, taking advantage of his brother's sudden vulnerability. "Let it go and get where you're needed."

Edward was too blinded by his emotions to spare any effort at mind reading, and since Jasper's own energy was focused on protecting himself from that same anger, he knew how powerful it was.

"Let. Me. Up."

Emmett just gave a ghost of a smile, stuck his elbow against Edward's neck, and rested his chin on his hand. "You're not threatening me, bro," he said in a low voice. "I'll let you up when I'm convinced you're going to do the right thing."

Sometimes Jasper was surprised by Emmett's ability to come up with the right words at the right time, and he felt Edward's internal shift when Emmett addressed the moral issue.

Jasper was glad he had resisted the urge to intervene. He tried to hold others' emotions as sacrosanct, thought it wasn't always possible, and knowing Edward's were fully justified made him less inclined than usual to take a hand in them. It took several minutes for Edward to get a grip on himself, and when his body relaxed, Emmett released him.

He did not spare a look at anyone but snapped to his feet and disappeared into the trees in an instant. Alice nodded at Emmett who seemed to be waiting for permission. "Go ahead," she said, and he tore off in pursuit of his brother.

Jasper released a breath he didn't know he was holding. He slumped heavily against a pine and clutched his head between his hands. The relief of Edward's departure was powerful, but while Jasper was spared the greater anger, he was bitterly conscious of another emotion--his own this time. Guilt. Bitter as moose blood, but with none of the soothing qualities.

Alice was waiting for him, but he felt no impatience from her, only concern, and love. As always. But for the very first time, he wanted to turn away from her longsuffering forbearance. He had killed before, and been accepted unconditionally afterward, but never had it been someone they knew--someone his family loved. Someone _Alice_ loved. The shame was unbearable.

Her voice came to him, soft but fervent. "Don't you go. Don't you dare go anywhere without me."

Jasper raised his head, ready to flinch from Alice's pleading expression. Instead he found her with her head bowed, and the heels of her hands pressing brutally against her eyes

"I'm sorry I didn't see it," she said.

"You're not blaming yourself for this. _You_ didn't attack her."

"I was so excited about the party. . ." her words collided with his own.

"I shouldn't have gotten so close."

_"Don't," _theysaid simultaneously, and Alice gave him a pinched smile.

Jasper lowered his face into her flame-like black hair, and breathed her in. He loved the smell of the top of her head. Sometimes, when she hadn't washed her hair for several days--a rare thing—he could fill his head with her scent, magnolia and spring rain. He wished he could sink into in the smell and never emerge.

Edward was always going on about Bella's freesia scent, but Jasper found it mildly off-putting and overly sweet.

And why did that damn thought have to come to mind just now?

The pairing between the two of them was absurd. Bella was a child while Edward had done several lifetimes worth of living already. And while Bella seemed to be a perfectly decent human girl, the relationship was inequitable—unhealthy, and probably would be so even if they were _both_ vampires. . . . But whatever Jasper's practical concerns, Bella didn't deserve to die. And he sure as hell didn't want to be the one to kill her.

"We need to go back, Jazz."

"Back? I'm heading that direction." He jutted his chin to the left, away from the house.

"You need to come with me." Alice started away in opposite direction, willing him to follow.

"What do you see?"

"That we need to go home." Leaves crunched underfoot as she slipped farther away from him.

"Alice?"

He took an unsteady step (unsteady for a vampire). Alice was forever telling him what she saw and what was coming, the fact that she wouldn't this time set sent a chill through him and set his legs to moving.

"Is she going to be all right?" he asked. The trees melted into a blur of color as he tried to catch up.

Still, Alice did not reply.

* * * * *

Jasper's sensitive ears picked out the voices before he could internalize the emotions.

"How could you do this? How the _hell_ could you let this go, Carlisle?"

"It was her choice."

"It's for the best."

He paused just outside the open front door, where he watched Alice slide up next to Esme who, in turn, draped an arm over her shoulders. Bella lay on the couch with Edward crouched beside her, and he glowered at Carlisle as he stroked her trembling hand.

"She can't _make_ a choice. There's no sort of informed consent for this!"

Rosalie, who lingered just inside the door, made an injudicious smug sound, and it was only a pained gasp from Bella that kept Edward from tearing into her like a rabid animal.

"Shh, love. It's going to be okay." His voice was strained and heavy with pain, but Bella relaxed fractionally. Though she could scarcely have been conscious, she knew Edward was with her.

"She can't make this choice!" Edward repeated, low enough that only the vampires could hear.

Carlisle just shook his head, knowing full-well his son was beyond having a reasonable, calm discussion. It was too late for such a thing at any rate.

"You could have stopped this!" Edward insisted. He rose to his feet and advanced toward Carlisle, and Jasper felt it time to intervene. Edward spun toward him.

"Don't fuck with me," he growled, thrusting a menacing finger toward Jasper. "You've done enough damage today."

"Please—" Alice began, but it was Emmett who finished. He caught Edward in the chest and thrust him against the living room wall so hard that it made an impression in the drywall, and a crack meandered its way up to the ceiling.

"That's enough! You're out of control. You're not thinking."

Jasper wasn't in the mood to wait on Edward now and, with an effort, he smoothed off the edges of his brother's anger. Edward's eyes glazed momentarily, and Jasper was ashamed by the plaintive, frustrated look Edward shot him, until he wiped those feelings away as well.

There was a sudden movement from the couch and Bella patted her hand blindly through the air, seeking Edward's. Emmett dropped him back to the floor, and he was beside her in a heartbeat.

"Don't be angry," Bella said. "Please don't. I want this—for us." Jasper was stricken by the pain and weakness in her voice. Without vampire hearing the words would have been unintelligible.

"It's ok, love. Don't worry. It's going to be all right."

"We've got to get her out of here," Emmett said. "This will be the first place they search."

"Denali," said Carlisle.

"We can't all just leave. That'll be too suspicious," Rosalie argued.

Esme shifted uneasily. "And what about the Quil--?"

"We'll deal with it," Carlisle said.

Now that he had calmed Edward somewhat, Jasper was able to think more clearly and the answer seemed obvious--if not desirable.

"I'll take her. I'm supposed to be away at school anyway," he said somberly.

"She's not going anywhere with_ you_," Edward spat.

"Edward!" cried Alice.

"Let him be angry, he has a right," Jasper said. He grimaced inwardly at his own hypocrisy as he himself undermined Edward's righteous anger.

"Well, I'm going too," added Emmett. "You can't take her alone." Jasper couldn't quite tell whether Emmett meant that he couldn't be trusted alone with her even now, or if he were merely thinking of the logistical difficulties.

Rosalie didn't care either way. "What the hell are you thinking?"

Emmett was stoic, without a trace of his usual good humor as he replied to her. "I'm just going to see them up there safely. Then I'll catch a plane and meet you wherever you want, Rose. But we're the only ones who can do it. No one even knows _we're_ in the country, and Jasper's supposed to be in New York."

Rarely did Emmett make such an executive decision, so when he did everyone took notice. Rose was the first to react, and she did so by turning on her heel and striding out the front door without a word. A moment later came the hum of her BMW's engine. Then Alice left too, disappearing up the stairway in a blur of motion.

"I'm going too," Edward said hoarsely. "You can't take her from me."

Carlisle reached up and gripped the back of his own neck; it didn't take the powers of an empath to recognize it as a gesture of unease. Esme reached for his other hand.

"If you go, Edward, everything's going to fall in on us. You'll be the first suspect--."

Edward shook his head like a stunned bull. "We can. . .fake our disappearance. Both of us."

"I don't see how--"

"You haven't seen clearly for a while now!" Edward snapped.

Jasper clenched his teeth and turned the dial up on Edward who dropped his head and raised Bella's hands to his lips. He hated doing it, taking away something so personal from anyone. As needful as it was at the moment, it was painful to see Edward essentially anesthetized and unable to make a decision during one of the most horrific moments of his existence.

"Please. Please listen to Ca--" Bella's words failed as she broke off in a sharp cry. She was sweating hard now, and her limbs convulsed as if a live wire ran down the length of her body. "We. . . need to do this right."

Those were her last words before the pain overtook her, and Jasper expanded his range of feeling to encompass her as well.

There was a flurry of movement on all sides. Alice and Esme up and down the stairs and out to the car. Carlisle on the phone with Irina. Bella gasping and writhing in Edward's arms, as he spoke soft words in her ear, comfort, and love and apologies over and over again.

Jasper wished to God-Almighty he would quit. If anyone should apologize. . . .

He cocked his head and concentrated more on Bella as she endured the pain he had brought upon her.

"Does that actually help?" Edward asked over his shoulder. His words were slow, as if he were sedated.

"I don't know," Jasper admitted. "It calms her emotionally, which in turn might affect her system like meditation. Or, maybe, I don't know. . . If the emotion and adrenaline actually help dull the pain. . .? You're the one with the medical degrees."

Bella's hand had gone slack in Edward's, and while she was still shuddering and whimpering, the lines around her pinched-shut eyes seemed shallower now, and the tendons no longer stuck out on her neck.

"Do you want me to stop?" Jasper asked.

Edward brushed a sweat-soaked lock of hair from her temple.

"No."

The preparations did not take long, but becoming a vampire was not at all dignified. Bella urinated herself before being moved to the car, and Edward and Jasper averted their eyes while Esme put her into some clean clothing. That done, Edward gathered Bella into his arms and followed Jasper out to where Emmett waited with the Aston.

Esme followed quickly behind. "Maybe I should go with—" she began, but at a tiny shake of Alice's head, said no more."

Alice hovered beside Jasper as he slid in behind the wheel of Edward's Aston. "When you hit the border, take 97 to 16 as fast as you can," she said. "Keep your cell on and I'll keep an eye on the road."

In the back, Edward was transferring Bella into the keeping of his brother, still muttering softly to her, words that she couldn't possibly be able to hear.

"Keep to the back roads until you're further north," Carlisle told him.

"I will." Jasper considered the elaborate dashboard briefly, annoyed that no one in the family had an inconspicuous car. He held tightly to his frustration, fearing what lay beneath it.

They were ready to go, and for a moment Jasper wished he could run, simply charge into the forest as he had meant to do just fifteen minutes earlier. It would have meant leaving Alice, at least for a while. But wasn't he doing that anyway?

She leaned in to press her cheek to his.

"I love you, Jazz. Don't forget."

He tried to return the sentiment, but found his throat clenched tight. He held her eyes with his, until he thought he might choke with shame and love for her.

In the back seat, Carlisle and Esme finally convinced Edward to move away from the car.

"I love you, Bella. So much," he whispered to her.

There was no sound from Bella, save her labored panting and a tiny rhythmic whimper.

"She'll be strong and sparkly next time you see her, bro." Emmett said, and pulled the door shut.

Jasper rather expected Edward to say something to him. "Take care of her," possibly, but Edward said not a word and refused to meet his eye as Jasper gave a final glance over the anxious group.

Alice's expression was blank now as she looked far ahead, beyond what anyone else could know.

"Hit it," Emmett said, and Jasper shook his head to clear it and tore down the drive.

In his peripheral vision, he could see Edward speed along side the car. Down one mile and then two. He accompanied them on foot for seventeen miles, until they came to the intersection of the first major highway north.

Jasper could not bring himself to watch Edward fall back into the safety of the pines.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER III

Jasper had seen Emmett frustrated, sullen, and even pouty, particularly when he and Rosalie were fighting (as fleeting and shallow as such conflicts actually were). However, this was the longest period of time in several decades that Emmett had been so quiet. There was little sound at all from the back of the car, save for his occasional words of sympathy and solidarity with Bella, or her panting and crying, and the thump of her feet kicking feebly at the back of the seat when the pain overwhelmed her.

Underneath, however, Emmett was far from quiet. Every time Bella seized against him, he seemed to crackle with empathy and pathos—feelings Jasper rarely connected with Emmett. What a difference a few months could make, he thought. Emmett had been nearly as ambivalent about her life as he had at first, even going so far as encouraging Edward to "give it up and bite her already." Now, he was holding her and whispering comfort to her as she changed.

"Is it always like this?" Emmett asked him, after Bella came through another series of seizure-like fits.

Jasper flexed his fingers on the steering wheel as he considered. This was the only change Emmett had ever experienced, apart from his own, so his curiosity--and the worry behind it-- were understandable. Although Jasper had witnessed hundreds of changes this was the first he had initiated, and the first in which he had played such an intimate role. During his warring days, his job had been crowd control, not nursing. He had tried to stay as far as possible from those in the throes of their change; their terror and confusion made him antsy and unreliable (a dangerous combination in a solider) and he hadn't had the time--or, to be honest, the sympathy-- to attempt mitigating their pain at all. It was why he had no idea whether his "ability" would extend to Bella now. He still wasn't sure what it was doing, if anything, and he wished Carlisle were there. Carlisle had better experience in this area, not to mention a thoughtful compassion Jasper could feed from. _But if wishes were horses_. . . he reminded himself.

Finally he unclenched his teeth to reply. "Yes. It's always like this."

* * * * *

Kate, Irina and Tanya were outside to meet them as they pulled up to the Denali home; their curiosity was palpable even without Jasper's sensitivity. Kate and Irina stepped out of the way as the car doors swung open, but Tanya waited at the foot of the porch, her arms crossed in front of her chest. She was no less curious, but her interest was rivaled by something edgier. Jasper was almost surprised to see her eyes a buttery gold, as opposed to a late-summer green.

Bella was in one of her deeply unconscious spells and Irina hovered over Emmett, making faint sounds of dismay, as he carried her to the house.

"Take her to Carmen and Eleazar's room. They're traveling for a bit," Kate said, hurrying along side. "We'll try to get her comfortable." It was a nice way of saying they'd change her out of the sweat-pungent clothing Bella had been wearing for two days. She wouldn't be anywhere near comfortable for months. A newborn's blood lust was nearly as all-consuming as the initial pain of the change.

Jasper watched them go and, unable to think of anything else to do, popped open the trunk. He collected the two large suitcases there, wondering what Alice had foreseen fit to pack. Tanya took out his guitar case and led him inside.

"So, that's the girl?" she said.

"That's Bella."

"I expected. . . well, I don't know what, I expected really." Tanya was clearly under-whelmed. Jasper wondered how much Carlisle had told her on the phone, and what she had simply gathered from Edward's past visits. He stood in the vast living room and blinked, feeling slightly dazed.

"How are _you_ doing?" she asked.

"Ask me in twenty years."

The corner of her mouth quirked upward in a knowing smirk. "It would have happened sooner or later. Edward's been playing with fire."

"Like as not," he agreed tersely. Jasper didn't particularly care for the metaphor, having just spent thirty-eight hours trapped in a car with Bella while she burned. "I think this is for Bella." He handed the vaguely female-scented suitcase to Tanya. "Maybe you could. . . " he waved his hand in the direction Emmett and the others had gone, "and I'll take my things downstairs."

He went down without waiting for a response. He planned on going through the suitcase to kill some time and distract himself, but when he got there, he felt peculiar. It took him several long moments to put a name to the sensation. Fatigue. He didn't even have the energy to reach down and undo the latches. Instead, he listened intently to the shuffling of footsteps upstairs, the words that sounded like sighs, the tiny shrill of bedsprings.

Bella becoming a vampire was the only way to keep Alice, and the Cullens, safe from the Volturi. The only reasonable alternative, namely her death, had been put entirely out of the question early on. _This_ was the best thing, he told himself. But that didn't make it any easier to accept.

He nudged the suitcase with his toe and it flew across the room and banged into the far wall. A justifiable anger simmered in him now. He wanted to be angry at Carlisle for not changing her sooner. Angry at Edward for his stupid infatuation. It was easier to be angry at them than with himself.

He couldn't sequester himself below and let the anger build, he decided, so headed back upstairs.

Tanya was lounging on one of the rustic lodge-pole pine chairs and the fading sunlight coming through the glass wall on lit her strawberry blonde hair like embers. The light played delicately on her luminescent skin. She was phenomenal looking, even for a vampire, and she knew it.

"Settled in?" she asked, looking up from an issue of The Journal of Applied Linguistics.

"For now."

He turned his attention to Emmett, who was on the porch railing with a cell phone to his ear. Being outside wouldn't have kept anyone else from hearing a conversation, of course, but it was a form of politeness they sometimes had to keep up. As Jasper sat to rummage in the considerable magazine bin, he heard the faint buzz of Rosalie's cell. He didn't have to avert his hearing after that because Rosalie never picked up and, for the first time since they'd left Forks, Emmett didn't leave a message. Emmett turned to come inside and forced a grin at Tanya.

"You know how she gets," he said with a shrug. "I guess you'll have to put up with the three of us for a bit."

"We're always glad for the company. We wish you all could have come." Tanya shut the journal and tossed it on the mahogany coffee table in front of her. "What do you think she'll be like? She seems. . . well, I'm surprised Edward would be so taken with her."

"She's not exactly at her best right now," said Emmett.

"No, but. . ." Tanya waved her hand in a careless gesture.

"She'll be a peach," he replied firmly. "She's a hoot. And definitely good for Edward," he added, punctuating his assessment with a nod.

"I begin to see Rosalie's objection," Tanya said in pointless _sotto-voce_ to Jasper, and Emmett shot her a malevolent look.

"_Not_ funny," he said.

Tanya looked abashed but did not apologize. "I just wonder what she'll think once the reality settles in. Maybe she won't take to our lifestyle so well."

"You seemed more heartened by that thought than concerned by it," observed Jasper.

"You're always the skeptical one." Tanya turned a smile on him, one meant to disarm, but it failed.

"I've got good reason," he replied simply.

She blinked, amused. "I'm just stating a fact. There aren't many of _our_ kind among our kind. I've been around far longer than even you, Jasper. I've seen plenty of others attempt this lifestyle, and nearly all abandoned it before you were even a twinkle in your mother's eye."

"Still, maybe we should hope for the best rather than anticipating the worst."

Tanya actually laughed out loud then and gave a toss of her hair. "And _that_ doesn't sound like you at all!"

Suddenly, there came a toe-curling shriek from down the hallway, culminating in one intelligible word. "Edward!"

Jasper startled to his feet, but not before he saw the knot of muscle clench in Tanya's jaw.

* * * * *

Jasper was so eager to hear her voice he cracked the phone's shell when he picked it up.

"Alice," he breathed.

"Jazz, I'm sorry I couldn't call sooner. I didn't know if it would be safe or not."

"Are you ok? Is anything wrong?" Irina's eyes flickered across the bed to him and a sudden panic gnawed at his insides. He fought it down as Bella twitched between them.

"Everything is. . .fine," she said. "It was just sketchy for a while. Sometimes I'd see the police taking our computers or phone records. I still think this can be my only call for a while. How's Bella?"

Words were inadequate for description, so Jasper took the phone from his ear and extended it toward Bella, where she cringed and panted on the bed. She was certainly better now that she had been ten minutes prior when he and Irina had to hold her down while she scratched madly at herself, trying to scrabble the skin from her body before collapsing again from exhaustion.

"Like that," he said, bringing the phone back to his ear.

"I'm glad you're with her."

"How's Edward?" he said, ignoring what Alice had meant as encouragement.

"He's. . . fine. Or, not fine, but not like you'd expect either. I think we'd all feel better if he was raging or brooding, but he's just cold. Like a machine."

"More importantly, how are you?" he asked.

"Don't worry about me," she said and gave very short laugh. Jasper closed his eyes tightly in frustration. The drawback of his talent was that he had come to rely on it too heavily and his other skills were growing dull—recognizing the emotions in a voice or a too-carefully constructed phrase. He couldn't _feel_ Alice right now, and that frightened him more than anything else.

An involuntary sound escaped from somewhere in his chest.

"Jasper, please don't be upset. It's good for you to be there with her now."

"Well it sure as hell wasn't good for me to be with her _before_."

"Don't you dare get all self-loathing on me. That's Edward's calling," Alice said.

"You mean Edward gets to spend years brooding, and I can't even have a minute?" he snapped.

There was no reply for a moment, and Bella gave a small whine as Jasper's anger and hurt surged inside of him. He gripped his forehead in one hand, when he really wanted to do was crush the phone in his other and hurl the tiny particles to the floor. But then he wouldn't be able to hear Alice's voice anymore.

"When are you coming up?" he asked, trying not to sound as desperate as he felt.

There was a long pause, as if she had been the one distracted and not him.

"Alice?"

"Jazz, I'm sorry. It will be . . . a while. Don't call, ok? It's not safe. I have to go now. I love you."

"The wolves, Alice?" he asked quickly. "Is everything--?"

The line was dead before he could finish the thought, and Alice was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER IV

Fire slides down the back of Bella's throat like molten glass. In her mind's eyes she sees the delicate tissues there stripping away, curling like birch bark. She snaps her eyes open and nearly chokes with horror. The air is fuzzy. Had her vision been impaired somehow? Suddenly she realizes that she's merely seeing the dust motes in the air, millions of them riding a shaft of sunlight sliding in between the curtains. Before she can refocus her eyes, _the name_ is on her lips.

"Edward?"

She can only breathe the word because the mere thought of making her vocal chords vibrate makes her want to scream in agony.

But Edward is not there, and Bella's eyes land on two women she doesn't recognize. One is slender with blunt white-blonde hair and a hopeful expression, the other has dark hair and feline-shaped eyes. Emmett watches her warily, his eyes serious, assessing. He is making an effort to block both the women from view. Bella wonders what he's protecting them from.

Then, there's Jasper.

"He's not here, Bella. He wishes he could be, and he will be soon." His eyes are intense but wary, and slightly unfocused. "We need to take you hunting now. It will help the burn." She knows he's right but she can't quite seem to make sense of her surroundings, her . . . existence. She considers the tiny dust motes for a moment. Instead of being dirty, they seem beautiful, and the light bounces from them like gold dust. She doesn't recognize her body at all, and even the expansion of her chest as she breathes feels oddly mechanical. Pointless. A phrase comes to mind, though she can't place it—ghost in the machine.

They're down the hall before she even realizes she's moving. Jasper is in front of her, or beside her or behind her, and his hovering makes her angry—so angry she wants to turn and rip his fucking head off. But as suddenly as the urge rises, it's gone, leaving a dull empty feeling in its place.

"I'll come too." It's the blonde speaking. She's pulling coats and boots from a closet near the front door, but Jasper waves her off.

"No need for those. Let's just get her out," he says tensely.

Bella doesn't like him speaking of her as if she's not even there, but the feeling is rough like an emery board, not blade-sharp, and she doesn't react. The door swings wide, revealing the shimmering afternoon sunshine. For one moment, she glances down at the skin of her arm, it's even more beautiful than the dust in the bedroom; she wants to strip it off and leave it in a lifeless pile on the threshold.

She makes a feral sound and sprints toward the cover of the woods. From behind her come footfalls, and voices.

"Don't want to miss this." She can hear the grin in Emmett's voice, but Jasper is not amused.

"Pay attention."

A million smells assault her, sliding over her face like cobwebs as she plows recklessly through them. Bella remembers a recurring theme from her human dreams. In the dream she takes one step and bounds down the block, but she's moving in slow motion, and her pursuer looms closer as she slowly sails past the houses on Yucca Drive. Now, she whips past the enormous pines and nothing can catch her. Something niggles at her to try to remember the feeling of dreaming and sleep, but the impulse is overwhelmed by the burn of her throat and the sudden wet smell coming from. . . _there!_

Through a break in a stand of gnarled trees Bella sees the brown-yellow eyes, the staring, frozen panic of the wolverine. There is a brief snarl--from the animal or from her own body, she doesn't know—and suddenly her nose is full of bristly fur, and she presses her mouth to the rich liquid pulse of life as it pours from the beast's body. It does not taste good, and she gags on the blood, and it sprays from her nostrils, but she's swallowing as fast as she can, desperate for relief. The effectiveness of the blood is like cold water run over a burn. It sweeps away the outer layer of sensation, yet leaves a deeper, threatening pain beneath, ready to bloom again once the water stops.

"Easy, Bella. You're—" Emmett is at her shoulder, too close. Does he want to take the wolverine from her? Bella reacts before she can think. Her arm shoots back and meets him squarely in the head. He gives a startled yelp and tumbles back, head over heals, and again, before hitting a tree fifteen yards away.

The wolverine is empty now, and Bella's up, sprinting away from the carcass to hunt again. She takes another animal, and another. She runs wildly, taking no stock of where she is. She wants to get lost and for Edward to find her. She no longer keeps track of what she has killed.

Finally she stops, kneeling over the body of a female moose. It's not quite drained yet, but Bella has reached her limit. She flops to her backside, belly aching and taut, and looks up to see a small moose calf shuffling nervously in the distance, staring at the thing that has killed its mother--and, in so doing, has taken his own life as well.

Something like a sob breaks between Bella's ribs, and then the woman with blonde hair is crouched beside her. Bella doesn't know this woman, doesn't really want her there now, and when she abandons herself to the woman's embrace she wishes it were Edward's. But she's in no position to be choosy now.

* * * * *

"Do you plan on typing all night?"

Bella looked away from the screen and blinked. It was two in the morning. She's been typing non-stop for nearly three days. Her only pause, apart from another hunting trip, came when she broke the first keyboard—it was too flimsy under her new fingers—and Kate and Emmett went into town to buy another one. Or, three actually, and a good thing because she had broken another since. This one seemed to be holding up, though. That or, she was finally growing accustomed to some of her new strength.

Bella was writing about her relationship with Rene, both the mothering and the being-mothered, and she had 54 pages so far, so maybe she'd done enough for now. (She had written over 300 pages about Edward and the Cullens before she even began on Rene, and she was ashamed.) Bella saved the document (Renee Higginbotham Swan Dwyer) and closed it.

"I suppose I ought to take a break. Be sociable."

She clenched her teeth and looked up at him where stood in the doorway. A pang shot through her at how beautiful he was, and she wanted fervently to see Edward, to know him with these eyes, but she smothered the thought. She was staring at the scars that laced Jasper's neck and throat. He was just as lethal as he was beautiful, and the new Bella wasn't any less intimidated by Jasper than the old one had been before she could see the scars. He must have felt that from her because he sat on the floor and crossed his legs.

"For whatever it's worth now, Bella, I'm so sorry for what I did to you."

She replies quickly. "It's what I wanted." It surprises her, how the voice coming from her charred-feeling throat, sounds soothing and cool, like the way autumn nights in Phoenix sometimes felt after a 105 degree day. She seizes the memory and claims it, wanting to capture the way things felt before vampire sensations.

"Even so," Jasper said, "it's early yet. Sometimes receiving our deep desires is less satisfying than the desire itself."

It was a clumsy way to say it, and Jasper looked uncomfortable. She didn't know if it was because he had trouble finding the words or if he just didn't like being around her.

From the first, Bella had wanted Jasper to like her; and even more, since she knew him as the husband of her dearest friend, she yearned for his approval as she had Esme's and Carlisle's. There had always been an unnerving distance between them, one of Jasper's making. As much as Bella wanted to believe it was for her safety's sake, she had been frightened it was something more.

"Whatever happens, I'm going to make the best of it," she said, more brightly than she actually felt.

"Good. That's a good attitude." She hadn't fooled him of course, but he didn't push.

Jasper rose and the two of them walked into the living room where Kate and Tanya were playing World of Warcraft on two enormous flat-screens. Irina looked up from the beanbag chair where she was crocheting . . . something. She looked happy to see Bella and the bag rustled as she extracted herself. She approached Bella slowly, holding the object toward her like an offering.

"It's a light sweater, more like a bolero," she explained. "I thought the color would suit you." It was a deep, nameless blue, unlike any she was familiar with, and Bella wondered what color she would have called it _before._

"It's amazing," Bella said, stroking the net of silky fibers. "Thank you."

"I'm glad to do it," Irina said fervently.

Emmett strode into the room just then, with his arms raised in triumph. He held a mud-smeared dry-walling trowel in one hand, and he was bellowing. Every head snapped to look at him in bewilderment as he made a raucous, growling noise like a broken garbage disposal.

Kate laughed and hurled a knick-knack from the computer desk at him. Emmett snagged it before it could do any damage.

"I'm throat singing," he said in response to Bella's quizzical look.

"He _thinks_ he's throat singing," said Kate.

"You can see why Rosalie threatened to divorce him the last time he took it up," added Tanya.

Emmett's grin slipped but was back in place almost instantly.

"Well, that's why I have to practice when she's not around. Good to see you again, girlie," he said, with a wink to Bella. "How's the great American novel coming?"

"_Great," _she said dryly, and looked pointedly at the mud smears on his shirt. "I'm sorry about the wall," she said, again.

"Seriously, don't worry about it. It just gave me a chance to be all manly."

"Don't say that around Esme. She could out-drywall you any day," Jasper said.

Bella had begun to understand why vampire homes had the enormous glass wall. There never seemed to be enough space. Being in a confined space made her nuts; her one attempt at a shower had to be abandoned after only a couple of minutes, and she finished rinsing her hair in the out-door spigot.

Carmen and Eleazar's room had a large picture window, but it hadn't been enough when the claustrophobia set in. As she sat typing, she wondered if she might just run through a wall, and no sooner had the thought struck her than she found herself in the hallway, covered in drywall dust. Fortunately she hadn't taken out a load-bearing stud, and Kate reassured her that Carmen really had been wanting to repaint the bedroom walls for quite a while. Bella chose to believe it.

Afterward, Tanya reluctantly gave up her room, one with a glass wall, for Bella to type in.

They were all gathering at the dining table for a game of Apples to Apples, ("Glad you could condescend to join us," Tanya told Bella with a sharp smile), when Emmett's cell phone buzzed.

Cards scattered to the floor as he checked the screen, and he was out the back door in a flash. They had only finished one hand when he returned.

"I'm going to have to take a rain check," Emmett said, a smile on his face.

"Where's she at?' Jasper asked,

"Chile."

Tanya made a sound of approval. "Nice."

Emmett nodded and shifted from foot to for a moment, ill-at-ease despite the smile, and finally asked Jasper if he'd come get some stuff together with him. Bella watched nervously as the two glided down the stairs into the basement.

"Turn your card over," directed Kate, and she did.

"Delicious," the card read, and the table chuckled. Even Bella forced a laugh. Kate, Irina, and Tanya played Pina Coladas, _Jane Eyre_, and Mel Gibson respectively, and Bella chose "Jane Eyre."

"I'll be right back," she said, deciding not to care what Tanya thought, and slunk down the stairs as quietly as she could.

Rosalie must have told Emmett something, and whatever it was he would pass to Jasper. She wasn't sure what Jasper might pass on to her.

Bella had Googled her name the first night after she had "awakened," after the horrible first-hunting trip.

At the time, there were few articles on _The Forks Forum_, and they said very little, mostly mostly sympathetic, carefully constructed stories to let residents know, "this is one of our own." The writer, Ray Igles, sounded like he might have cared about her, or her father. More so than the Seattle Times where the headline read:

**Daughter of Forks Police Chief Goes Missing: Boyfriend's family questioned**

Her stomach went hollow as she read the heart-breaking quotes from her father. Even Rene sounded oddly non-hysterical, just mute and flat between the quotation marks. When she could no longer bear to think of her parents, she let her mind drift to Edward, and what it might mean if Edward and the Cullens were questioned too closely. What if the police wanted to administer polygraphs?

She hovered with her ear to the door where Jasper and Emmett were speaking in such hushed rapid voices that, even now, she had to strain to understand what they were saying.

"Damned wolves are causing problems."

Jasper said something she couldn't make out, and then Emmett spoke again.

"She didn't elaborate, just said the Quileutes are pushing things pretty hard. I don't think they're in physical danger. Not yet."

"I still wish I knew better what the hell was going on."

Whether she had made too much noise in her descent or some sixth sense that alerted them to her, she didn't know, but the door creaked open and Bella actually stumbled forward. Unlike _before_ though, she managed to catch herself before she could fall and looked up directly into Jasper's leonine eyes. She froze there for a moment, startled by his unreadable expression.

Emmett slipped past him and put a heavy arm around her shoulder. "Don't worry," he said. "They know how to take care of themselves."

"I can't help it," she gasped. "I don't want them to be in trouble. I feel like I've brought this on them." She pressed a hand to her mouth to block off a threatening sob.

"If anyone has done that, it's me," said Jasper.

And even as she stood there, comforted against Emmett's bulk, Bella felt overwhelmed by her loneliness and fear and self-recrimination. Then she wondered if the emotions were solely her own.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER V

At first, Jasper worried how Emmett's departure might affect Bella. Up until that point, she had spent most of her time in Alaska secluded with a computer. However, Emmett had taken on the role of big brother in Bella's life long before the disastrous birthday party, and Jasper wasn't at all certain that the Denali family would be able to step-in and fill that empty place when he left.

So, it came as a pleasant surprise to see Kate and Irina, and even Tanya, warm to Bella once she pried herself away from her writing and showed them the slightest interest. In fact, they tucked her under their collective wing and made every attempt to help her settle in to her endless vampire days. It was Tanya who spearheaded Bella's outfitting, trapping her, with the help of Irina and Kate, back at the computer (of all things!) to click her through their favorite online boutiques. A week later, boxes began arriving at the house, but not before Tanya and Irina had already gone into Fairbanks and purchased Bella a perfectly serviceable wardrobe. Bella thanked them all with a profusion of embarrassed gratitude and responded eagerly when they offered involve her in their current interests.

Kate taught Bella to use the scroll saw so she could try her hand at intarsia (Bella was making a duck), and it was going moderately better than her attempts to learn crocheting from Irina. Tanya taught her the basics of photography, and they had passed a couple of evenings trying to capture the Aurora digital-style. It was also Tanya who had also encouraged Bella in a more unorthodox vampire pursuit.

"Want a piece?" she asked, offering Bella the pack of Big Red chewing gum.

Bella considered the shiny foil sticks skeptically, and Jasper chuckled under his breath. "Is it going to make me . . . throw up?"

"Well, it took me a long time to be able to tolerate it, and I actually started with some natural mint stuff," Tanya said, chewing steadily. "I guess gum just produces more venom, and you don't really ingest much of anything. Although, I still can't manage a breath mint."

Bella turned the pack over to read the ingredients then sniffed the open end. She looked over at Jasper. "Have you tried it?"

His felt his nostrils twitch at the very idea. "No."

Bella returned the pack. "Maybe I'll start with mint sometime."

That didn't mean that everything was rainbows and buttercups though. While there weren't the number of conflicts he had experienced with other newborns, they still existed. Jasper kept careful tabs on any sudden rush of anger or frustration from Bella, and the other women were reasonably cautious as well.

Only once had Bella truly lost it, when Kate mis-cut the last available piece of hickory. Bella "flipped like Ninja" as Kate later put it, knocking over the saw table in an attempt to plow her through the wall. Fortunately, Jasper had arrived to restrain her before the garage was completely destroyed, and now every time Jasper felt the tension rise anywhere in the house, he wondered whether he should step in and take control of the situation. He asked himself the question a dozen times a day: Should he intervene, or shouldn't he? He found himself irrevocably tied to Bella, and he wanted to make the change as easy for her as he could. While he could have eased her frustration or wiped out her anger without so much as a single word, it would leave her helpless to her own emotions. Therefore, he kept a cautious distance.

Jasper thought it might be like parenting in some way; he wondered if Bella would be offended by the comparison.

He was idly strumming _Heart of Gold_ on his guitar one night when his mind drifted back to an article Rosalie had given Edward on the "biology of parenting" when he first decided to pursue a relationship with Bella. It was nothing Edward (and Jasper for that matter) hadn't read before—how parents' deep attachments to their infants is connected to their offsprings' helplessness, their dependence, and on the singularity of the relationship. All of the things that Bella was to Edward.

On the last page, Rosalie had hand-written: "There are words for men who become obsessed with infants--none of them nice."

Jasper deadened the strings and stared up at the ceiling for a moment. There was a singularity to his relationship with Bella too, but so far it expressed itself only in mutual avoidance. She kept her distance, nodding sometimes at him when they were in the same room, her anxiety sparking off of her in faint greens and blues. He couldn't understand why she should still be so ill-at-ease with him—especially now that he could no longer hurt her--but he tried to be considerate too and spend as little time around her as he could without being impolite.

Bella and Tanya came drifting through front room then, dressed in coats and boots, but lacking cameras.

"We're going hunting," Bella told him.

"Oh, well, have a good time," he said, on reflex.

Tanya tossed a wave in farewell, and closed the door behind them.

Jasper leaned the guitar against the wall and enjoyed the feeling of "aloneness" for the moment. The house was empty now except for him; Irina and Kate had gone to Fairbanks that morning for some woodworking supplies and late-night clubbing, and it was a relief to be alone with his own emotions for a spell.

After a few minutes of aimless pacing, he sat down at the dining table and watched the feathery snowflakes coming down. He wouldn't be able to see them if not for his vampire-vision. There was to be a full moon tonight, but it wouldn't be up for several hours, and then only for a short time. Right now, the sky was dark as the devil's pocket. Eventually, he turned a handy laptop toward him and clicked onto the net.

He started by checking the news in Washington: particularly, anything to do with Bella's disappearance which was now being connected with the "large animal attacks" of earlier in the year. He perched his chin on his hand and read the speculation on why Bella had gotten out of her truck (which the authorities had found abandoned between the Cullen home and Forks). Some folks believed she had seen one of the mystery beasts and got out to take a picture with her new digital camera (the camera was never found). A quote from Charlie read, "Bella was cautious. Not outdoorsy at all. She would never have done anything so slap-foolish."

Perhaps she wasn't foolish enough to get out of her vehicle to photograph an enormous carnivore, thought Jasper, but she had been foolish enough to fall in love with a vampire. That error in judgment had lead to her death just as surely.

He clicked the news browser closed so sharply he thought he might have damaged the mouse button. He told himself that it wouldn't do any good to brood, especially since Edward was probably brooding enough for the both of them. Jasper surfed around a bit more, looking into online degree programs for Bella, but his mind was restless and he couldn't focus. Eventually, he decided to turn to writing, but for him that meant pen and paper, not keyboard and monitor.

He went downstairs and settled in with a fountain pen and a hardbound journal. It was a habit he had picked up from Carlisle, though Carlisle kept his private journal with a quill. A quirk he referred to as his "pet eccentricity."

Jasper wrote two entries, one with a salutation to Alice, and another without. While each contained basically the same information, he had learned years ago that he wrote differently for them. He held back some things in the "Dearest Alice," entry, but wrote with more emotion, letting himself really feel, when he wrote "to" his mate.

He sighed, thinking about Alice. It had been nearly three weeks since Jasper had last heard her voice, the longest he had ever been without her. He missed the touch of her hand, and the taste of her mouth, and the gimlet look in her eye when he tried to sidestep her foresight. Much of her scent had faded from the garments she had socked away for him (the devil-cat had hidden a pair of her panties and bra in the bottom of his bag). Mostly, he missed the deep, familiar hum of her emotions. He couldn't sense her in any way, and it _wasn't_ like missing an appendage, whatever the poets would have you believe; it was like missing a vital organ.

He hated being left so in the dark, not knowing how or what she was doing, and so he determined to call her. Friday. He would definitely call her on Friday, four days from now. Alice would see his decision, and she was clever enough to warn him off, if necessary. He looked down to see a dime-sized ink blotch spreading on the page, and quickly lifted the nib.

It wasn't like him to be so careless.

3:29

He checked it again ten minutes later, and again five minutes after that.

It was almost funny, Jasper thought. He was acting a father waiting for daughter who was late returning from her very first date. He caught himself short with that; Jasper had taken Bella's father and mother away from her, as surely as he had taken her life. To insinuate himself into a parental position would be despicable beyond measure.

Suddenly, a wild anxiety ripped through him, practically knocking him from the chair. In a split-second, Jasper had the front door open.

"What happened?" Jasper demanded, but he already knew. "Where is Bella?"

Tanya's eyes were crimped with distress as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other on the threshold. "She's out. She's back there."

It took Jasper a mere instant to understand what had happened. A little guilt on Tanya's part was reasonable, no matter how little fault she might bear. But this was more than average guilt.

"You _let_ her do it?" he hissed.

"I didn't _let_ her. I--I just _thought_ about it, but I couldn't. I wanted to stop her, but by then it was too late!" Her voice cracked with emotion.

"Why did you _think_ about it, Tanya?"

Tanya shook her head, mute, and snow flew from her hair.

_"Why!"_

"Maybe, she should know. . . I though Bella should be able to make a choice. She's not obliged to our lifestyle, right?"

"You did it because of Edward," he snarled. "You're hoping she won't stick to this life and that Edward won't want her anymore.

Tanya couldn't deny her motives and dropped her head.

Jasper rarely allowed himself strong negative emotion; it was too heavy, too much to manage when he had to deal with everyone else's feelings from day to day. However, he let the anger fill him now, and he twisted it sharply before thrusting it back upon Tanya--as crippling fear.

She shriveled and dropped to her knees with a gasp.

"Where is she?" he demanded.

"She wouldn't come back." Tanya's voice trembled violently, but it wasn't enough for Jasper. He could just imagine Bella in the comedown from her blood lust, the dead body before her. Those empty unseeing eyes in the face of the first life she had taken. Overcome by a sudden vengefulness Jasper cranked the emotional dial till Tanya was absolutely frantic. "I didn't want to leave her!" she cried. "I came back here to get help. For her!"

Tanya was the ground, shuddering on her hands and knees. Cowering. Jasper hadn't seen a vampire so terrified since his days killing newborns in Te--.

The memory brought him to his senses with a blow, and he tore off down the trail Tanya had created, leaving her behind him, gasping and sobbing. Jasper sailed over the new skiff of snow, the crisp cold of the air and Tanya's rich herbal scent filling his nostrils. He sprinted through meadows of browning autumnal grasses and the dusting of snow, finally coming to the intersection of Tanya's and Bella's scents, and the pungent, luscious tang of human blood.

He swallowed hard and took the fork right, following Bella's scent and the lingering perfume of blood, hoping he'd be able to hold it together. A half mile later and he found Bella's blood-stained coat abandoned on the trail. Two hundred yards beyond that he found her shirt. Then the boots and pants. She must have shucked everything as she ran.

Jasper came upon a lake at the base of the foothills, and there he saw her, on a short outcropping of rock. Bella was naked, and her skin was the same silky color as the moonlight, from her forehead down her thighs and to her bare feet. Her knees were bent to her chest, fingers linked around her shins. She stared out at the glassy expanse of water, silent and still as the rock on which she sat.

He approached slowly, though loudly enough so that she would know he was coming.

Bella didn't move; didn't cover up. He paused several yards behind her, but she stared straight ahead when she finally spoke.

"What do you suppose the temperature is out here?" she asked quietly.

"Ten. Twenty degrees maybe," he said, surprised at the question.

"Below freezing," Bella said with a dulled sort of wonder. "I never even saw thirty-two degrees in Phoenix." There was a short pause. "How cold will it have to get before I really feel it?"

"You don't feel it now?" he asked.

"A little. Maybe."

"It will take time to re-sensitize yourself," he said.

"Is it cold to you?" Bella asked, finally turning. Her face was a careful mask, covering the turmoil beneath the surface.

Jasper took a moment then. There was a sense of the cold, surely, but he didn't feel it in the way she meant. It was an uncomfortable dryness in his sinuses, the almost imperceptible shrill of things freezing.

"I'm _aware_ of the cold," he said.

Bella bowed her head, pregnant with defeat. "I'd like to feel it. Cold. Hot. Anything. Sorry," she said, with a quick glance at him. "I don't mean to make you feel. . . .bad."

Guilty. That was what she meant to say, of course. Jasper's hunch was confirmed with her next remark.

"They were sleeping. In a tent." Bella gave a small turn of her hand indicating a place beside her. Not so close as they could touch, but close enough to actually be in conversation.

"What did you do with them after?" he asked gently, slipping up beside her. He half-considered offering her his shirt, as a gentlemanly gesture, but she wasn't embarrassed, and neither was he. He knew that the offer would only have made her so.

"Tanya--" there was bitterness in the name. "She helped me. We pulled up a couple of trees and put the. . . bodies underneath. Sort of replanted the trees on top." She spoke in short utterances, almost panting. Jasper felt her anguish, and wanted to help her, take it away. Instead he helped her by letting her feel it, unadulterated.

"And it maybe was stupid. But I said. . .a prayer too. I don't know that I even believe in God, so I prayed to them, the people I. . . killed." She brought her hand down with a smack against the rock, and a crack jittered between them. "Once, Jacob--Jacob Black, a friend of mine, he's Quileute," she explained to him, unnecessarily. "He told me that their fishermen used to say a prayer when they pulled in a large take. Sort of a prayer to the earth for the food, and to the fish, to acknowledge the necessity of their death. . . . But I didn't have to kill those people!" She shook her head furiously at herself. "And I don't know if they can forgive me. Or if everything is just over for them forever. It was one thing I could do. But maybe in the end the prayer was just for me." Her voice dropped, almost out of the range of his hearing. "Do you think it's wrong?"

"It's not about what I think," he said.

"I need your help!" Bella cried. "Killing them was wrong! I know that. Is every thing I do in response to that murder somehow wrong too? I need. . . _help_." The words choked off, and Jasper realized it wasn't just pain, or hurt--Bella was angry as well. How long had she been hiding that? He sat there, stunned by his own emotional tone-deafness, and Bella groaned and turned away, dropping her head to her knees.

"I don't think it was wrong," he said softly. Still Jasper still didn't take her pain, but he didn't fight it either; he let it spill onto him, and a deeper compassion stirred in him in response. He eased closer and placed a hand upon hers where it lay on the rock. Bella flipped her palm up and seized his hand greedily. With a sad shock Jasper realized it was probably the first time anyone had touched her in a non-restraining manner since her change.

It was a long time before she replied.

"They won't have a gravestone, or anything. Their families won't even know what happened to them." Her words were muffled in the cavern between her legs and body.

Jasper merely nodded though Bella wouldn't see it. Her family would never know what became of her either.

"What did _you_ do when—_have_ you ever killed anyone?" she amended. Jasper was stunned, but oddly grateful at how little Edward had told her about his past.

"Many, many people, Bella. I had a different experience than the Cullens." He gave her hand a brief squeeze. "I know better now, and sometimes I manage to _do_ better. As for the people I've killed, I track down their names however I can, old records, microfiche. I learn who they were and make it a point to remember."

Bella raised her head, just enough to gaze down at their joined hands.

"Almost every person who walks this planet will be lost to time," he said. "Memories fade and disappear after a generation or two. Or three. Some people believe that a person can live on in memories, that first-hand memories of the deceased keep that person alive, and that the dead aren't wholly gone until all who knew them are dead as well." He let his gaze wander to the reflection of the full moon where it shone like a silver dollar on the water. "As long as I live, as long as I _remember_ these people, and what I did to them and to their families, maybe they go on living a little. It doesn't make what I did any less wrong, but it's how I live with it. Is that rationalization, do you think? Am I just trying to ease my conscience?"

He waited, and eventually Bella realized he wasn't just asking rhetorical questions.

She shook her head, struggling to meet his eyes.

"I don't think so."

Jasper's mouth tightened into a weak smile, and he ignored the fact that her answer might have been self serving; he appreciated her strength, _and_ weakness. Like a man easing a heavy load from his body, he let down his defenses. Jasper let all of her pain and loneliness sink into him, and allowed his own emotions to settle into all of the empty, hollow places revealed over the past weeks.

He had been toying with the notion of care-taking, of a parental sort of responsibility, but hadn't taken it seriously. Jasper knew it wasn't enough that the Denali family had been keeping busy, it wasn't the same as her keeping company. Keeping tabs on her behavior wasn't the same as giving thought to her heart. He scooted up beside Bella and dropped an arm around her shoulder. She leaned hard against him and convulsed with tears she couldn't make and a sob she wouldn't release.

They stayed that way for a long while, long enough for the moon to dip closer to the horizon and the falling snow to dust their bodies. He felt her slow intake of breath before she finally spoke again.

"Do you think we have souls?"

Jasper wondered if Edward had had this conversation with Bella, or if this were just another one that he had avoided. "Humans or vampires?" he asked.

"Any of us." She gave him a surprised look, as if the distinction had never crossed her mind. Jasper was glad of it.

"Yes. . ." Bella must have heard the hesitation in his voice and she looked up from his shoulder waiting for the other shoe to drop. So he dropped it.

"And no. I don't know that we have souls so much as we create them. Humans and vampires both. We are beings, we _have_ "being". It's what we do with our being, what we experience, the people we love, that's how we _create_ our souls."

Bella's expression flickered and Jasper felt the hopefulness behind it, along with a spoonful of admiration.

Jasper almost smiled. "I didn't come up with it, Bella, but it's the closest I've found to what I do believe."

"I like that," she said. "I want to try to create a good soul too."

Jasper noticed the way she said, "too," and Bella turned her head back against his shoulder and sighed. Her hair brushed softly against his stony jaw, as he settled his head against hers. Above, the Aurora stretched and blossomed in ghostly greens and pinks across the vast night sky.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER VI

"It's hard not being able to sleep," Bella admitted. It was 4:18 pm and she and Jasper were standing on the back porch watching the sun disappear behind the swaying treetops on the horizon. She swung one foot back and forth like a metronome, trying to remember what it was like to fidget. "Did you feel the same way, at first?"

"Not so much at first; I was pretty busy. I miss it more now though."

"Eating too," Bella went on. "I never realized how much time we—humans I mean, spend just eating and sleeping. A _lot_ of time."

Jasper nodded and gave her a wistful, outsider's smile. "That's exactly why there's so much ritual involved. Sharing a table, sharing a bed. Special meals for celebrations and holidays. Sleeping single to sleeping double," he offered. Jasper passed his gaze over the browning expanse of land that sloped away from the house and gave way to the encroaching pines a half-mile or so in the distance. Bella followed it to where a couple of deer were grazing just their side of the tree-line. There wasn't much ceremony to hunting, she thought; it was strictly instinct and drive. No time for "pass the dressing," or "Geez, you want some beans to go with your salt?"

"It's natural to take the unavoidable parts of life and make them special or ceremonial in different ways," Jasper concluded.

There was a brief silence as Bella tried to think of something to say. "Mmm. I can see how. . .sex—if you got married first, or had an exclusive relationship, how that makes sex even more special than if it were just. . . you know, casual. So, I can see the ritual, or whatever, there," she fumbled. "I didn't really make the connection so much with eating before."

"True, but I'm not just referring to sex. Sleeping can be just as intimate." Jasper spoke carefully, as if weighing the truth in his words as he spoke them. It had been a very long time since he had last slept. "To be unconscious--entirely and _willingly_ vulnerable--in another's presence, that's a form of intimacy too. An issue of trust. Like sex. Humans get to enjoy both."

An echo of a memory drifted through Bella's mind and she thought back to her own essentially sexless relationship with Edward. She remembered Edward in her bed, the feel of his cold skin under her cheek as she lay against his chest. She remembered rolling over into the empty space where his body had recently cooled the sheets. That was one of the first things she wrote about in her computer diary. Bella let herself enjoy the memory for a moment, when a tiny breeze tickled a lock of hair against her neck and another memory swept in like a flood: Edward's fleeting kisses and the shuddering little line he drew with his lips from her cheek into the sensitive hollow just under her ear. She recalled trembling as he drew breath against the tender skin there, and a painful longing rushed through her as she stood on the porch. It was followed quickly by desire before being displaced almost immediately by horror—having remembered who exactly she was speaking with.

If Jasper picked up on her sudden lustfulness--and he must have--he hid it well. Bella was grateful when he nudged the conversation back to sleeping

"Sleep is healing. It's an escape, and our minds need time to rest, especially during stressful times," Jasper said, giving her an understanding nod. "There is a way you can create some down time for yourself. I took it up a couple of decades ago when Carlisle suggested it to me."

"What?"

"Meditation."

_"Reeally?"_ With an effort, Bella dredged up a memory of Renee taking her to visit a swami during a meditation seminar in Phoenix. "Do you wear a turban?" She grinned, trying to imagine Jasper with a long beard and thirty extra pounds.

"I believe Alice would have a fit if I even thought about it," he said, offering Bella a smile in return. "But you don't need to have or do anything "special" to meditate, and it I find it very. . . ."

"Restful?" suggested Bella.

"No, it's not necessarily about resting. Meditation is more about living in the moment, just taking stock of where you are, taking time to be. It's soothing. It's healing to just _be_ and to be _aware_ of being. I've offered to teach Edward a couple of times. . . ." Bella flinched without meaning to. Every time her lonely ache seemed about to wear-off someone brought up Edward's name, or a memory would sprout up again from her increasingly barren memory.

"Sorry," Jasper said, and Bella gave him an embarrassed shrug. "Well, if you want to learn some time, I'll be happy to teach you," he offered. "It's quite simple. No turbans required."

However simple Jasper said it was, Bella sort of thought meditation would be beyond her. Then again, Jasper could probably teach a hummingbird to meditate. She had spent the last three days with him—to avoid Tanya at first, but now she simply enjoyed his company. Bella was starting to think he enjoyed hers as well.

They would sit on the porch or in the open dining room reading or talking, and Bella found that he _could_ talk and that, when asked, he had a lot to say. He was bright, and well-read. He seemed to know a bit of everything, and Bella would have found it intimidating but that he never tried to make a show of it.

He spent one afternoon schooling her in the basics of game theory (which she found interesting if challenging). The next, they talked about 19th century British literature, and she was only a little embarrassed to realize he knew more about it, though liked it less, than she did. Not only had he read Austen and Dickens but Chaucer as well because he could handle both Old and Middle English--though he said he preferred Greek. He had read the dramatists as well as the philosophers and historians.

"Why not Latin too?" Bella asked him, staring down bleakly at a copy of _The Birds_, by Aristophanes.

"Latin's fine for religious texts. I've got nothing against 'em, just that I prefer the ideas of the Greeks to those of the Church." It tickled something inside of her when Jasper lapsed into his slight southern accent. She hadn't known of Maria or his background before but Jasper had told her the story when she remarked on his pleasant drawl. He was sharing personal things with her now, and hearing the accent--the one that the Cullens and the Denali family must have already been familiar with--made her an insider.

"The Greek stuff scares the crap out of me," Bella admitted, fanning through the pages with a frown. "Our psycho English teacher in Phoenix had us read a translation of _Oedipus_, and, it was hard to read, but at least the story was good. But sad. And the whole theme! It was like, "live right, try to avoid doing bad stuff—and dodge horrible prophecies—but get hit by the bread truck anyway."

Jasper laughed aloud, and it made his face light up like the morning sun cresting a hill. "That's very Greek, actually."

"Argh." Bella shook her head and re-shelved the book. "Maybe someday I wrestle with the ancients again. For now, my brain is full."

"How do you feel about cartoons?" Jasper asked.

Bella blinked at him. "You like cartoons?"

"What, Emmett's the only one who gets to have a sense of humor?" he asked, feigning offense.

The next thing Bella knew, Jasper, Kate and Irina were arguing and laughing over which _Looney Tunes_ were the "most classic" and downloading them all for Bella's viewing pleasure.

Back on the porch, the breeze kicked up a notch, and Bella pulled a handful of hair back from her face and flipped it into a loose knot at the base of her head. The sky was grainy violet as dusk settled in.

"Did you ever think of teaching?" Bella asked.

Jasper gave her what she thought of as the "twitchy-eye," a little quirk of the eyebrow that spoke more than all of Jack Black's spastic contortions combined.

"Not really," he said dryly. "Not until paper becomes obsolete in the classroom. And it would probably help if my students didn't have blood anymore. I'd have to wait until they all have borg-juice in their veins."

Bella rolled her eyes at him. "You won't have to wait that long. And you've got to have something to look forward to, right?" It was the same encouragement he gave her when the reality of endless days first began creeping in. "Have goals, things you anticipate and strive for." She quoted him verbatim. "Plus, I think you'd be good at it. I think you _are_ good at it," she said.

Jasper regarded her carefully for a moment and Bella could feel him testing her with his peculiar sensitivity--gauging her sincerity? The thought shocked her. Jasper couldn't possibly have insecurities, could he?

"You didn't argue about the borg-juice," he said.

Bella groaned. "Please." But when she looked into Jasper's eyes, she saw something glinting there like a lovely new idea.

* * * * *

Sometimes Bella was glad she couldn't sleep because she knew the nightmares would come. Even in her waking moments the memory would sometimes assail her--the rending sound of the tent side that she tore as easily as old lace, and the shriek cut short by a dying gurgle.

And the blood. Oh, _God_, the blood. The worst part of the nightmare would be the rush of blood-lust through her, and how well she liked it. The way the warm, viscous fluid collected in the seams between her teeth and coated her tongue. How it soothed her tortured throat.

Bella spat toothbrushy foam into the bathroom sink and sighed. The other vampires humored her in this, giving her their unused bathroom props and an unopened tube of Crest. She didn't tell them that she brushed only as a form of behavioral conditioning. Every time she began to think about the taste of the blood again, she brushed with the toothpaste, which made her feel sick.

She spat again and rinsed out her mouth, pausing to stare hard into her own eyes before straightening up. She pressed her face to within a hand-breadth of the bathroom mirror to gaze into the once-familiar features. Her irises, which had been a darkening garnet with tiny gold flecks, were fiery ruby once again.

She heard Jasper's footfalls in the hallways, recognizing them by the long, measured stride. They stopped outside the door and she jerked up away from the mirror, afraid of being caught.

"Mail, Bella."

She nearly ripped the door off the hinges in her excitement. Jasper was smiling and he handed her a tidy white envelope with her name written in fine script on the front. In his other hand, he held a larger manila envelope which was opened and had probably contained the one she now held. The return address read J. Jenks.

"Just a precaution," Jasper said, seeing the direction of her look.

"You got one too?" she said.

His smile widened a bit.

Bella gave a choked squeal, delighted for the both of them. She clutched her letter to her chest and darted past Jasper and into "her" room. She closed the door behind her, ruing the brief second such an action had cost her. Bella's hands didn't shake but something inside of her did as she carefully tore a strip from the top of the envelope.

She slipped out the paper and flipped it open in one motion. She took in the entire letter at a glance, and her heart would have stopped if it could have.

_Dearest Bella,_

_I miss you more than you know, Love. I'm so sorry I can't be there to help you now and I promise to make it up to you._

_Alice assures me that we will all be together soon._

_Please do not worry about us. And please believe you are in my every thought. _

_With all my love,_

_Edward_

Bella squinted down at the letter, and though she had it memorized after the first reading, she read it again. Then again.

To say that it was a gross disappointment would be been inadequate but true. Bella could scarcely believe what she was seeing. She turned the paper over, just to make sure there was nothing written on the back. _Nothing_! She had typed pages upon pages about him, spent hours thinking of him, trying to recall his features, even flipping through the Denali family's photo albums to rememorize his face. And he had sent her less than one hand-written sheet. She wondered suddenly if Jasper had kept other letters from her, but dismissed the idea knowing he'd do no such thing.

She walked out of the room past the kitchen where Irina was decorating a wedding cake. A recent little side-business of hers—all the Denali women had one.

"You heard from Edward!" She dropped the bag of icing and bounced forward, eager for news. She stopped mid-stride at the look on Bella's face. "Are you all right? What's wrong?"

Bella waved her off. "Fine. It's fine."

Bella went to the basement to find Jasper, but he wasn't there. Outside, she found Kate who directed her north.

"He looked like he wanted to be alone," Kate warned, as Bella turned to sprint up the trail. Bella ignored this and followed Jasper's most recent scent for several miles up the sparsely wooded ridge behind the house. In spite of her exceptional new senses, Bella might have blazed right past Jasper, if she hadn't caught the sparkle from his cheek as a breeze shifted a branch above him. He was seated—actually _seated_—on fallen snag. And he was still, eerily so, even for a vampire. Bella caught the worry etched across his features, like deep grooves in a wood block, before he was even aware of her presence. He stared blankly at her for a moment before realizing she was there, and then his face took on a carefully bland expression, the only tension lingering in tiny lines at the corners of his eyes.

"What's going on?" Bella noticed that her voice was trembling. "What did Alice say?"

Jasper rubbed his hand across his mouth. Once, Bella would have been tempted to keep talking, but being with Jasper had shown her how silence worked. Eventually he was compelled to fill it.

"What do you know about werewolves?" he asked.

_"What?"_  
Bella just shook her head in stunned disbelief as Jasper revealed the secret of the La Push reservation, the continuing expansion of the pack and, most importantly, the Cullens' treaty with the Quileute.

"Oh." She breathed and sat down hard next to him.

The muscle knotted in Jasper's jaw and he gave one sharp nod.

"So, I broke the treaty," he explained bleakly. "And it's worse because your father is a. . . special case. He's close friends with Billy Black and Harry Clearwater, and they're both members of the tribal council, and the council looks as you--at least in this situation--as a loss of someone affiliated with the tribe. And whether you're a vampire--or dead--the result is much the same for your father."

Bella groaned at the thought. It was hard enough to accept someone else's death, but it was harder to accept your own, in the eyes of those who loved— who _love_—you. She still held on to the idea of going back to Forks from time to time and peeking in on her father. In her more fantastic imaginings, she saw herself making him Grandma Swan's stroganoff and leaving it in the freezer for him. It was crazy, but still tempting.

"Are they in danger, Edward and Alice and _everyone_?"

Jasper grimaced. "I don't think Alice is being honest about how much." There was a sudden edge to Jasper's anxiety, and Bella cringed.

"Sorry," he said.

"It's okay. You should be able to feel your emotions without worrying how they affect me." Bella steeled herself because she meant it, and it was clear that Jasper was struggling. "What's keeping them in Forks then? Why are they still there?"

"God only knows." Jasper smacked the manilla envelope hard against his leg. "I have no idea _what_ the hell Alice thinks she saw. Maybe, she thought we could all eventually go back to Forks in the future if Carlisle could renegotiate the treaty. If the tribe could be convinced that this," he waved a hand, indicating Bella's new vampireness "was your choice."

"It was!" she agreed quickly. "I mean, basically!"

"Basically," Jasper repeated. "But I should have pushed it. I should have made them leave with us." Jasper ran a rough hand through his hair and slapped it against the log. A sheet of dry bark crackled and slid to the ground. "I was trusting Alice."

"Should I call. . . whoever? The chief or the council and tell them I'm okay?" Bella suggested, anxious to play any role that could help.

"If it was going to make any difference, we would have had you do it by now. I suppose I should just be thankful the pack didn't take them all out already. It's pretty damn good of them. Of course, I don't know what the rationale is. Maybe it's just because. . . what happened wasn't Carlisle's fault. Or Edward's. Maybe there's only one justice here, and only one who really deserves it," Jasper said. "And that's why they're keeping me away," he added, voice soft, but rough with frustration.

Bella pinched her eyes shut. She had the vaguest recollection of one other vampire being destroyed. She couldn't bear the thought of that happening to Jasper. And then she realized that the rest of her vampire family was still within striking distance and nearly buckled double with fear.

"What if I could just go back some day and show them that I'm okay?"

"You aren't "okay," Bella. You're a vampire now," snapped Jasper, clearly exasperated. "You're a defacto member of the Cullens' party, just like Alice and I are. Whatever holds for the rest of us holds to you as well." He was deadly serious now and Bella felt small as she ever had. She managed a nod.

"Either way, it looks like things are pretty much settled in Forks and that Alice and the Cullens will be up here before Thanksgiving," Jasper added. Bella tried to give some sound of relief, or sign of pleasure, but her voice wouldn't work. Jasper saw her discomfiture and pulled himself together. Then he pursed his lips and let out a bit of air as he tapped his own envelope against his knee.

"Now, what about you?" Jasper glanced at Bella's letter, the one she had almost forgotten, still pinched between two knuckles of her fist. Bella flipped the envelope and blinked at her name, written in Edward's handsome smooth hand. There had been so many things she had meant to ask Jasper, but not a one of them seemed to make any sense right now; there weren't even words. Her head swum with werewolves, and treaties, and a brand new terror for her family that she wouldn't even have thought possible mere minutes ago. Jasper said that everything was ok, that the family would be returning soon, but then why was he so worried?

"Nothing," she croaked. "It's ok."

Jasper turned on the log, squaring his shoulders to her as if getting ready to dig in and rummage for the truth. Then he suddenly seemed to decide against it, and he kicked his legs out in front of him and crossed his feet on the ground.

"I'll see you later then," he said. "I've got some things I need to think through."

"Oh, all right." Bella nodded and kept nodding as she rose. It was the first time Jasper had ever dismissed her, and she walked away on lead-heavy legs

* * * * *

"You want _me_ to go hunting with you?" Tanya cocked her head and regarded Bella from narrowed eyes.

"Yes," said Bella.

"You need to go now?"

"I'd _like_ to go now."

Tanya, tapped her fingers against her thigh, looking wary. Bella almost found it funny; she wasn't trying to be scary, she was trying to be brave.

"All right then. Let's go."

Bella had paced around the house for nearly an hour after returning from her "chat" with Jasper, and she was glad to be back outside, even if it was Tanya she had with her.

They didn't speak as they loped through the countryside. Bella was in no hurry; she was a turtle when it came to conflict, she preferred to withdraw into her shell. But this needed to be done. Tanya made an effort to edge Bella away from all of the human trails, and high into the foothills Bella took out a female mountain goat. She felt braver once her throat hurt less.

She picked her way down the slope to find Tanya standing over an exsanguinated fox and sucking daintily on her index finger. They joined together for the trot back home.

"I appreciate you trusting me," Tanya said.

Bella gave a brief huff of a laugh. "I suck at holding a grudge. I might manage a little on this one though."

"You've got good reason."

"I do," Bella agreed. She watched Tanya from the corner of her eye as they skimmed over the rolling landscape.

Tanya was beautiful and clever; she could reasonably expect her pick of men, even one as desirable as Edward. For the past several days, Bella had been asking herself if she wouldn't have done the same thing in Tanya's place--whatever it took to gain an advantage for the most available male; it would be a lie if she said the idea would never have crossed her mind. As a human she had ignored and overthrown friends for Edward's company. She planned to turn her back on her parents—her father whom she loved despite the distance between them, and her mother whom she once had considered her best friend. She had determined to stick a knife into every one of them, simply to have Edward and his family in their place.

Tanya stopped suddenly, and Bella pulled up short beside her. The sun was going down now, and the last of the light poured down honey rich on the two women and they shaded their eyes against it.

"I really am sorry, Bella."

"I know. I am too. And I don't plan on ever killing anyone again, whatever else happens."

There was a beat.

"What do you mean?" asked Tanya.

"I mean whatever Edward chooses." Bella watched Tanya watch her; Tanya placed a free hand on her hip and cocked her head, assessing. "That doesn't mean I won't fight for him," Bella continued, "but I want you to be clear on my choice. I want to do the right thing. I won't kill people."

"I know that. I never really doubted it," Tanya admitted. "Those people's deaths are as much on my head as they are on yours. Maybe more so."

Bella shook her head and the hair whipped over her shoulders. "This isn't about you.

Or, not really. I've been thinking that maybe it's not fair to expect Edward will want to be with me--not right to expect it."

Tanya shot her a look of disbelief almost verging on disgust. "He wanted to be with you as a human, you think he won't love you now? Now that you've killed some people? He's killed too, you know. We all have, except for Rosalie."

"I know he has," Bella snapped. "But I _was_ a human before, and a novelty. Edward couldn't read my mind. Maybe that was all it was, and maybe he'll be able to read it now." The possibility made Bella's stomach roil, and the blood inside her belly seemed to gurgle. If the novelty was gone would Edward want her anymore? And could she hold him to his earlier professions of love?

"And I won't ever know for sure why he'd want to stay with me, even if he does. Like, if a guy gotagirlpregnant. . ." Bella sped through the analogy; it was a clumsy one, but it was the only one she had managed to come up with in the past hour of contemplation. "And so maybe, they get married and all. But then, would she ever know for sure that he had married her because he loved her and that they would have gotten married whether she got pregnant or not? Or, would she always wonder if she was an obligation to him?" In the real-life vampire-scenario, Edward's sense of honor made such an obligation seem likely. And frightening.

Tanya nudged a lump of granite with her toe, and it bumped down the hill, bounding further and higher with each bounce. They both watched it until it came to rest in some sort of sprawling vegetation.

"What about marriage?" Tanya asked.

"What about it?"

"When people get married, they make commitments to one another," Tanya explained. "Doesn't this create an obligation between them? Do you think they'd eventually doubt the other's sincerity if times got difficult? And if so, why do so many people embrace that sort of obligation?"

"People don't accidentally get married. . . and they get divorced all the time," Bella argued.

Tanya was sharp enough to follow Bella's reasoning. "I thought you said you wanted to be a vampire. Wouldn't this have been your choice, if not your timing?"

"I did, but Edward didn't want me to."

"Ahh." Tanya straightened almost imperceptibly--hopeful again, thought Bella. HHHHer heart sunk. It was hard knowing she was just a kid, not anything like Edward. Neither talented, nor brilliant, nor beautiful. It seemed so obvious standing next to the lovely, ancient vampire. Maybe that was the reason why Edward wouldn't change her, whatever he said. He didn't want her forever. She needed to accept that possibility no matter how it hurt. The sooner the better.

Suddenly, Tanya shot a hand out and jabbed Bella on the arm in a friendly jostle that nearly tossed her on her butt. Bella stared at her shocked, but Tanya laughed.

"Frankly, I doubt there's any hope for Edward and me. I've been after him for better than forty years," Tanya admitted, begrudgingly. "Besides, I can see why Edward likes you. Now."

Bella sniffed. She wasn't sure what Edward saw in her to _begin_ with but she held her tongue.

They started back home, chasing their own shadows as they stretched long and gray before them. It had been a relief, to get things out in the open with the woman she saw as her rival. It had helped that Tanya had wronged her; it had put Bella in the stronger position. Putting her fears to words had also helped. Facing the possibilities head-on felt strong, but deeper down, she was in agony. What if Edward truly didn't want her anymore? That was what his letter must have meant. It wasn't flowery or passionate; he didn't want to give her false hope.

And it wouldn't be just Edward she would lose. Bella wanted _everyone—_everyone vampire. Esme and Carlisle as the mother and father she had given up. Emmett as the sibling she had always wanted. Alice as the bosom-friend. Rosalie, well, she'd have to tolerate Rosalie if she wanted Emmett. And Jasper—but how did he fit in?

Bella had once harbored a romantic notion of Edward changing her. She thought that having his venom in her veins--of him being her source of new life--that she would be "his" is a profound, intimate way. Flesh of his flesh, bone of his bone.

So then, what was Jasper to her now? He had been her rock, her comforter in the darkest, most frightening moments of her new life, and those feelings were fertile ground for deep roots. She had never felt the brotherly kinship with him that she had with Emmett, nor any romantic designs. What she felt with Jasper was what she had previously felt for Carlisle, but more so.

Bella checked herself hard. Jasper he would have been put off by that kind of familiarity. She didn't want to burden him with it, or embarrass herself. She had already determined that no obligations should exist here, not for Edward and, therefore, not for Jasper either. She would get that particular emotion well under control before she got back to the house.

Still, she was excited to see him. The normally imperturbable Jasper might be playing Nancy Griffith in the den, singing slightly off key. Bella would wait till he finished the song then tell him about her talk with Tanya. He would be proud of her for finally taking the bull by the horns.

As the approached the house, Bella caught the scent of car exhaust, and they found Irina standing alone in the den, hands twisted together.

"What's wrong?" Tanya asked.

"You need to be calm, ok?" she said, replying not to Tanya, but to Bella who hovered in the entrance.

"What is it?" Bella demanded.

Irina approached her slowly, arms extended in a placating manner. "Sit down, please."

"Tell me!" Bella's already considerable worry was ratcheted up by Irina's hesitation, and she was ready to choke the words out of her if need be.

"Now," snapped Tanya, sensing Bella's frame of mind.

Irina shook her head apologetically, and reached out to take her hand. "He's gone, Bella. Jasper left."


	7. Chapter 7

A/N In this story, the "Alpha" leader among the werewolves/shapeshifters does not wield incontrovertible power over the pack. This is more in keeping with most native traditions—a chief is not a dictator, he governs by persuasion, not fiat. Furthermore, (and more selfishly), my story works better this way.

CHAPTER VII

Jasper cursed himself for not getting his pilot license when Edward had. He deplaned at Sea/Tac, brushing past the faceless, staggering travelers with fussy children, wishing he could throw caution to the wind and simply sprint down the terminal. When he finally escaped the airport, Jasper pulled a car heist worthy of his mate, and sped his way toward her.

Alice's voice had trembled over the phone line. Actually trembled, and it twisted Jasper's guts to remember.

"It was stupid," she cried. "I'm so sorry."

Jasper's head practically spun. Carlisle's name had been the one to appear on the phone's screen, and that was his first inkling that something was very wrong.

There had been two attacks that day, Carlisle explained. The first was on a human, a hiker near Weyforth's Bend.

"A nomad?" hissed Jasper.

"Looks like Victoria. The Quileute apparently caught Laurent several days back. . . ." Carlisle let Jasper's imagination fill in the details. "So the tribe was even more anxious to have us leave. They think our presence is just bringing in more of our kind. They're probably right," he admitted wearily. Carlisle's was careful as he spoke, thinking through his words. Too careful.

"What aren't you telling me?"

"The Quileute thought one of us had done it—had killed the hiker. Or at least, one of the pack boys did."

"_And_?"

Carlisle's voice grew thick with emotion. "Alice went to Charlie's tonight. I had no idea--"

"Is she okay? Let me speak to her!"

"She's here, Jasper. Hold on." It felt like an eternity as the phone changed hands; Jasper's insides twisted as if he were being wrung out. He heard Alice's soft pant of breath across the miles as she put the phone to her ear.

"Alice? Darlin'? Are you okay?"

"Jasper!"

"Hon, what happened? Are you ok?"

"I'm sorry. It was stupid. I went to Bell—Charlie's," she began. "I wanted to get some things for her. It was going to be a surprise. I could practically _see_ how happy it would make her—to have some mementos of her human life. Charlie was on patrol, so I didn't think it would be a problem." It was a blur of words, and Jasper couldn't believe what he was hearing. Alice was impulsive sometimes, in spite of-- or perhaps because of her "gift,"-- but this went beyond the pale.

"Alice?" He felt his temper slipping. It was easier to deal with anger than fear, now that he knew she was safe, and not somewhere reduced to a smoldering pile ashes and violet smoke. "What _happened_, Alice?"

"He was there waiting when I came down from the window. The wind was blowing the wrong way, so I never even caught scent him," she explained hurriedly. "He thought I was fair game after the killing. . ."

"Alice!"

"My. . . arm," the word was barely a sigh, dropping from her mouth like a smooth pebble. "I got away, but the wolf. . . he took my _arm_." This time, he heard the sob.

Jasper's perfect legs gave out on him, and he crashed to his knees.

"_Hon_. Are you. . .in pain?" He dreaded the answer. Everything in her voice said she was hurting, but Alice lied.

"It's not too bad, Jasper. I promise. Everything is going to be okay, I don't want you to do anything rash!"

The weight of it poured over him, knocking the air from his lungs as if he were thrown beneath Niagara Falls. There were so many things he wanted to ask her: how she had gotten away; what had been done with her arm, if she knew--but he couldn't bring himself to articulate the questions to her. She was alive, and she had come so close to leaving him.

"Hon, I'm coming to you right now."

"No! There's nothing for you to do here, we're trying to work it out!"

"You stay there. Don't do anything! Please, darlin'. Let me talk to Carlisle."

"No, you talk to me."

"There's nothing to talk about. You should be out of there already. Now, let me talk to Carlisle!" he commanded coldly.

Jasper could imagine the shock on her face. He had never spoken to Alice in such a tone, but he had never been so frightened before either. There was a growing ache in his gut and he pressed a fist to his belly. He asked the question as soon as he heard Carlisle draw breath on the other side.

"She didn't see it coming?"

Carlisle's words were heavy with regret and reluctance when he finally replied. "She can't see anything, Jasper; not about the wolves."

Jasper clenched his fist so tightly it would have broken bones. Alice hadn't told him _that_. She hadn't given the faintest inkling that her vision was limited in that way, and the anger that had been simmering under the surface of his fear boiled over.

"And _you_ didn't tell me?" he demanded. "What the hell have you been doing down there all this time, Carlisle? I can't understand half of the decisions you've made over the last year, but I'm damn sure you made the wrong one in not letting us kill Bella at the outset. None of this would have happened—_none_ of it!—if you'd done the rational thing instead of pulling the higher-angels-of-our-nature-shit you like so much." Carlisle didn't try to interrupt, and Jasper gave him no opportunity to respond. "I'm coming right now, and I'm getting Alice out of there! You can do whatever the hell you like."

Jasper was good as his word. It wasn't two minutes later and he was speeding his way to Fairbanks in Irina's Audi, watching the speedometer needle twitch at 110.

He realized too late he hadn't told Alice he loved her. But on second thought, Jasper was glad he hadn't; it might have sounded too hopeless, like he didn't expect to be able to say it to her again.

* * * * *

There wasn't a way to get there fast enough, but the time on the road gave Jasper some thinking room.

He still couldn't understand Carlisle's choices of the last year, but he regretted speaking as he had. As deeply as he felt toward the other members of the vampire clan, Jasper did not have a maternal and paternal love toward Esme and Carlisle. Alice had been young and lost, and desired the mother and father she couldn't remember, in addition to a soul-mate and lover, but Jasper had been a soldier, and a grown-man—or close enough that it made no difference. He was the oldest member of the coven, save Carlisle, that would have been difficult if the _de facto _Patriarch hadn't been the leader and decent man he was.

Yes, there was a love between the two men, and a careful respect as well. Jasper played son for the sake of appearances, but couldn't feel the role. At times he wished he could, if only to resolve some of the dissonance of the relationship.

Now, he was glad he couldn't. It would be easier to do what he had to do without a crippling sense of familial obligation. If the Carlisle and the Cullens wanted to stay and work out with the humans and the wolves, they'd be welcome. All he had to do was get into the house, get Alice and then get away. He wasn't sure he'd be able to keep the wolves completely at bay, but he might be able to keep tensions low enough that it wouldn't come to a fight.

He drove with the window down, testing the air continually for the oppressive, fusty scent of werewolf. Two miles from the house, the air was saturated with the scent, and Jasper understood that the house was under siege.

A sharp corner at the end of the drive forced him to slow to 30, and an enormous shadow appeared suddenly in front of him. He slammed on the breaks, but not soon enough to keep the front-end from crunching against the wolf's side. From the trees on the driver's side came the form of a tall man, and Jasper blinked. The wolf in front of the car bristled, but did not attack, and the man beckoned for him to step out of the car. Jasper could feel hostility and a cool anger, but there seemed to be no fear of immediate violence. Not from this man at least. Out among the hissing tree was where the threat truly lay. Jasper had no idea how many wolves were hiding in the darkness off the edge of the road. The numbers alone made him second-guess his ability to control them. He wondered which had taken Alice's arm, and had to repress the sudden surge of violence that rose in him.

_Easy now_, he told himself. _There is no room for carelessness here_. _There will be no quarter if things fly apart._

The man on the road spoke without raising his voice. He must have known Jasper would not need to be yelled at, even seated inside of the vehicle.

"I want to speak to you, standing face to face as men. No one will hurt you as we speak."

After another long moment, assiduously testing the man's mood Jasper swung open the door. He rose slowly from his seat, physically sizing up the young man now, taking in the broad shoulders and serious eyes. Jasper stood with the door open, backed up against the car. He had never met Sam Uley, but it was easy enough to match the name from Alice's letter to the man standing before him now. Jasper had the feeling that the man facing him would have been just as confident and calm had he not been backed up by who knows how many of the other Quileute men. He also wasn't sure he liked what that meant for him, but Jasper had to respect Sam's demeanor and well-fitting authority.

"You're the one who killed Bella."

There wasn't a good way to answer that. Jasper gave a slow nod, but said, "Bella is in Alaska. You can speak with her if you like."

"It was her choice, to be a vampire?"

"She wanted to be with Edward."

Sam's eyes narrowed. "She wanted you to kill her?"

Jasper bit back a denial. "I was out of control," he admitted. "It was unintentional, but the fault still lies with me. No one else."

Sam seemed to be looking through him. "I spoke with Bella several hours ago." It took Jasper by surprise, and Sam continued. "We have every right to kill every last one of you, but as you say the fault for her death lies on you. . . ." Jasper wondered if Sam expected him to simply lie down and let the pack tear him to ribbons, and he tried desperately to gauge the man's emotions. It was apparent that Sam's goal would not be ruled by his spleen, though, and he wasn't going to be emotionally manipulated. Instead, Jasper focused his skill on the invisible wolves in the bushes, and a shaggy rust colored beast that had appeared further down the drive.

Sam crossed his arms over his chest, eyeing Jasper with increasing suspicion. "Bella also gave me a very passionate argument for not killing you," he said.

"Oh."

Jasper had been doing his best to dull everything inside of him save the necessity of getting to Alice, and it surprised him how powerfully the feeling came upon him when Sam mentioned Bella's name—a fierce protectiveness and fondness that did not rival those he felt for Alice, but strong, and all the more profound because he hadn't expected them. Then, for some reason he was unwilling to examine, Jasper pushed down and locked them away.

"We have killed one of your kind already. The Cullens say his name was Laurent, and they claim that this Laurent and Victoria were the one responsible for the recent killings. We've been tracking the both of them for several weeks."

That took Jasper by surprise. How many killings had there been? How much had Alice been keeping from him?

"We spotted Laurent several times before actually destroying him. We've never even caught sight of this Victoria." Jasper could feel how hard it was for Sam to admit this, and he saw a glimmer of hope, not just for freeing Alice, but perhaps for restoring her as well.

"She may be gifted. A talent for evasion," Jasper offered.

Again, there was a very faint nod, and something like a smirk twitched on Sam's lips. "A talent? Like _yours_."

Ah, thought Jasper, so Sam wasn't oblivious to his effect on the rest of his pack.

"I have experience tracking and killing our kind," he said. "I could help you track her—Victoria, if you'll allow me to. Then we'll leave." This earned him an angry snap from the wolf at the front of the car.

"Why would we want your help?"

"I mean no disrespect whatsoever," Jasper said, "but you haven't even _seen_ her yet." _And why would you have offered this information if you hadn't had similar thoughts?_ But Jasper wisely held his tongue.

The large black wolf bristled, and the rust-colored wolf lowered his head in a stalking posture.

Sam spoke a sharp syllable Jasper didn't recognize and the wolf stopped growling, though the threatening posture didn't ease.

"Do you think you can catch her?" Sam asked him.

"Yes," he said, careful to mask any of the doubt he felt from his voice. He had a head for tracking and hunting, but the bagging of prey was never a sure thing. "What about . . . my mate." Try as he might, Jasper wasn't able to keep the hitch from his throat. "She said, she was. . . wounded."

The black wolf made a whoofing noise that might have been a snicker, and Jasper wanted to tear into him so hard, a red haze filled his head. He knew that control was vital now, if his slipped, so would that of the Quileute. Sam snapped his arm angrily toward the wolf, who turned his head away, rebuffed.

"Forty-eight hours. That's _it_. If you're able to help us kill this Victoria, your mate will have her arm back, and you'll all leave. Immediately."

Jasper knew better than ask what would happen on the flip side of that coin. He also wondered whether or not this had been Sam's plan all along.

The damage to the front of the car was minimal, and Jasper was aware of the heavy, lurking shadows of several wolves as they escorted his car to the house. Everyone was waiting for him in the living room, Edward, Carlisle, Esme and Alice, whether forewarned by Edward's mind-reading or hearing the car rumble down the drive, he didn't know.

But Jasper had eyes for Alice alone.

She seemed smaller than he remembered her, and frightened and fierce as a cornered badger. Her black hair contrast starkly against the white of the couch, and her eyes flashed gold and ebony as he ran to her.

She threw herself into him, and Jasper gathered her close, careful not to pull her off balance, as she adjusted to the new balance of her body. He felt her tiny cry against his shoulder.

He breathed her name into her hair. "Alice."

"I'm all right. I'm all right now that you're here."

* * * * *

There was no such thing as a private conversation in the Cullen home. Not with vampire hearing, or Edward within a three-mile radius. So members of the Forks family gave space when it was needed, looking away or ignoring intimate moments that couldn't be avoided, or simply accepting a certain amount of intrusiveness of everyday living. And though Alice and Jasper weren't often physically demonstrative around the others, there wasn't anything normal about what was going on right now.

Jasper held Alice on the couch for as long as he was able, breathing her in, rememorizing the familiar sound of her breathing, the smell of her head and baby-soft whisps of hair at the nape of her neck. These were as familiar to him as his own skin, but his heart torn at the new strangeness of her body. The way she sat heavily against him, pitched slightly to her left side, as she had not yet learned to compensate completely to the lightness of her right.

Eventually, she tucked her head under his jaw, and pressed her lips to his collarbone, and Jasper forced himself to look into the rest of the room. The first face he saw was Edward's. He was standing several feet from the end of the couch; his eyes were dulled, but fixed upon the couch arm. When they finally flickered up into Jasper's, Edward spoke with an effort.

"How is Bella?" he asked softly.

"She's well. And she misses you."

Edward's eyes pinched closed, and he slumped against the wall behind him, overcome with. . . relief? Jasper couldn't fathom it. He often found Edward's brooding tiresome, as much as he loved his little brother. It wasn't healthy how he obsessed, but did he really doubt Bella's love for him? Edward was more of a mess than ever, not only emotionally frayed, but physically as well. His hair was a mess he hadn't deliberately created; there was too of the disheveled in the chic-but-disheveled look he tried to cultivate. How long would it take for him to snap totally?

"And they've all treated her well?" Edward asked, opening his eyes. Jasper knew he was asking mostly about Tanya, but was tactful enough to couch it. He tried to snag the memory before it surfaced, but Edward had plucked it from his head as if he hadn't even made the effort. Edward sucked in a pained hiss and rubbed an angry hand through his hair.

"_How?_" he hissed, face contorted with grief as well as anger. "How could Tanya do such a thing?"

"It doesn't matter now, it's done. And Bella's fine, Edward." Better than Alice, he thought. He placed another kiss on her brow and let himself be distracted for the moment by her nearness and the weight of her in his arms.

"But you left her there?" the question was unwelcome, but Jasper tolerated it.

"You didn't really want me to bring her into this, did you?"

Edward looked away and wiped his hand over his face. "No. Thank you."

Jasper laid his cheek against Alice's. "I'll have go for just a little bit," he said softly to her ear, but she pulled away to fix him with her eyes. "I know. I would come too, if I could."

"I know you would,"he said, brushing a hand through her hair. His Alice would have hunted Victoria, pain or no, missing arm or whole, but the scent of the venom might well have driven the young wolves completely wild.

"I'll come too. Just tell me what you want me to do," Edward said flatly.

"As will I," Carlisle said. He was turned away from them, staring out the picture window. His arm was above his head, braced along the window frame, his eyes on the distant silhouettes of wolf forms slinking through the trees.

Jasper blew out a long breath, again regretting his earlier outburst in this cooler moment. He knew Carlisle's offer wasn't based on guilt. As much as he abhorred violence, he knew where the field lay, and Carlisle would have made the offer even without the upbraiding Jasper had given him.

Nevertheless, for a fleeting moment, Jasper wanted to throw in back in his face. It was this sort of sensitivity and weakness, (for sometimes he wondered if it was) that had got them into this situation. It was a sore temptation to refuse help for the sheer, bitter spite of it. It would be stupidity though, and Carlisle's life depended on these days' work as much as anyone's.

"Whatever _they'll_ stand for," Jasper said, tossing a glance to the window. "It's all up to what the wolves'll accept, but I'll be glad for the help."

"I want to help, too," Esme said. She slipped arm around the small of Carlisle's back and she leaned against him, offering him the comfort and support of her body.

"You can," said Jasper. "The best way for you to help is to stay here with Alice. She can't be here alone, it leaves us too spread out."

For the first time that night, Jasper's and Carlisle's eyes met, and it was a small look of gratitude that passed from the older vampire to the younger, and something else that he didn't have a word for.

Jasper wished Rosalie and Emmett were there, and Alice was making wishes of her own.

"I'd give. . .my other arm to see something," she said, trying, in vain, to make light of her hurt. "I hate this! What if it's some sort of trap?"

All heads turned to Edward.

"They just want to be rid of us," he said. "And they want Victoria dead." The sneer as he said the name proved that Edward's desires and those of the Quileute were perfectly aligned on this point.

"Then we've got forty-eight hours to make it happen," Jasper said. Before rising, he let himself savor one final moment with Alice pressed against his breast, her hair tickling his throat. He wondered if he were feeling the same imbalance she was.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N** Before we begin this chapter, I just want to take a moment to thank all of those who have sent reviews. They have been a great encouragement to me, not only for this little fic-piece, but also in RL. It's just nice, and gives me a little heart.

Errata: In the previous chapter, I had to make a last-minute revision (how long Sam gave to find Victoria—should have been 48 instead of 24 hours.) I've corrected all the consistency problems about that in the chapter now (I hope!) and am grateful to the sharp-eyed reader who pointed it out to me!

Thanks also to Ava Sinclair for the excellent Beta.

Now, without further ado. . . .

CHAPTER VIII

Bella didn't fly off the handle as the reality of Jasper's disappearance settled in. Instead, the shock burned off with a sizzle, like alcohol poured into a heated pan. She felt blank, eviscerated. Irina's face blurred in and out for a moment, and Bella blinked to still her vision.

"Bella?"

"I'm okay. I'm fine," she said, shrugging Tanya's hand off of her shoulder. She realized they had been calling her name for some time, but Bella had no idea how long she had stood frozen: a second, an hour? She didn't even care why Jasper had left, it was the fact that he had, without even telling her or leaving a note. Left her as if she meant nothing at all to him. And really, did she have any right to expect something from Jasper? He hadn't wanted her in the first place—had made it perfectly clear that changing her had been an accident. A bitterly regretted mistake.

She didn't realize she was even moving until she broke the doorknob to Tanya's bedroom off in her hand. She closed the door then leaned against it, and her mind registered her surroundings without any interest. Computer, dried roses, a framed poster from Tori Amos's "Plugged '98" concert tour, the tidily made bed that smelled of Tanya and the faint traces of previous "guests."

It was enough to make her crazy. She had been cooped up for nearly two months, and the scope of her life had contracted to this house, the open range around it, and four people--one of whom left at the first opportunity. Bella scuffed the floor hard with the ball of her foot, and the carpeting tore from the tacks and rippled into tiny beige mountains. She kicked it again and the carpet padding ripped too making tiny formless particles explode into the air.

Bella wanted to scream, but she choked it down to a grating snarl in her larynx. So many things she wanted right now, large and small. She wanted to hear Edward's voice and for him to comfort her. She wanted to order a Happy Meal, completely without irony. She wanted to know she was loved.

She took Edward's letter from her pocket and pressed it to her face, sniffing hard, trying desperately to scent him. He was still there, slightly sweet, but masculine somehow. The scent was fading, though. Fading so, so quickly.

She couldn't control the angry sob that broke from her throat, and she kicked at the carpeting again. In the corner a little wastebasket wobbled and fell over, disgorging crumpled wads of paper, poorly made origami frogs, and gum wrappers onto a naked big of carpet padding. That, of all things, was the last straw, and instead of exploding into a frenzy, she simply crumpled to the floor. It was so easy for her to throw things away, to destroy without thinking, only later to have to deal with the consequences.

She had mis-prioritized so grievously, Bella realized. The things she wanted now were those she was so anxious to slip. She missed her life in Forks, the tedium of high school. Her dead-heart absolutely ached for her mother and father. No longer did she think of them as Charlie and Renee. She ran her fingers roughly against her scalp and squirmed along the floor in an agony of frustration and self-loathing. She had cast her parents off. And now the same was happening to her. Karma was a bitch.

And if she had underestimated her own blood family, had she overestimated Edward's?

She had been so confident in Edward's love. In her darkest hours of doubt in the two months since, Jasper had even assured her of it, though something lurked on his face as he did. Bella hadn't taken it for deceit. Not until now. And she had been certain of Alice's love too. And Carlisle's and Esme's and even Emmett's. Before her change she wouldn't have doubted it, but now. . . .If Edward loved her, surely he would have found a way to come to her before now.

It was so stupid, Bella realized, with the crushing clarity of hindsight. She had been willing to jump right into "forever" with people she had known but eight months. Her mother married Phil after they had been together for fourteen, and Bella thought that stupid--and would have thought it stupid had it been _anyone_, not just her capricious mother. Why had she supposed eight months was enough time to even consider a near-eternity of vampirism?

She stared at the ceiling and ran these ideas through her head until she felt they were wearing a deep groove along the synapses in her brain.

Suddenly, she heard a noise outside of the door, and she jumped to her feet to crack it open. Irina hovered in the hallway, looking worried.

"How long have you been out here?" Bella asked.

She gave an uncomfortable shrug. "Just a little while. I didn't want to intrude."

"I just need to be alone a bit."

Irina nodded. "I just thought. . . if you need to talk. . .?"

"Can't be _alone_ with two," Bella snipped.

In the hallway, Irina blinked, stung. Bella hoped, in spite of herself, that Irina would push back, convince her that she was worth being around. Alice would have. Of the three Denali sisters, it was Irina who had been the warmest toward her. She had Alice's kindness and passion, if not her extroversion and aggressiveness. But Irina wasn't Alice.

"Oh. Okay, well. I'll be going out. Kate and Tanya want to take a run, and I guess I'll go to."

"Have fun," Bella said, without emotion.

"All right." Irina turned away, clearly wondering what she had done wrong, and Bella watched her disappear around the corner. Despite her reserve, Bella wasn't cold, and she didn't like hurting people. Any other time, she would have run to Irina, apologizing and greedily taking the comfort she desperately wanted. But she meant to punish herself now, and everyone else. It was too little too late. And thoug she had no right to expect more from anyone anywhere, she wanted it anyway.

When she finally hear the front door pull shut, Bella slipped through the dining room, and snagged Kate's set of keys from the table by the door. On second thought, she took Kate's as well. The sisters would find a way to follow her, eventually, but Bella could at least have a head-start. She didn't know where she was going, and it didn't really matter. Ideas flew through her head as though hurled by a rapid-fire pitching machine. Perhaps she'd swim to Russia. She could do that, right? Or drive straight East and hop her way into Greenland?

At the very least, Bella would do them the decency of leaving a note.

"Sorry about the car. I left the clothes though. Thanks for everything. Bella."

She tapped the edge of the sticky note pad against the table top, considering. It was vague, but there wasn't much more to say. And if she let herself dwell on it, she might come to her senses--might understand why she was doing what she was doing--and Bella wasn't having that.

The garage door rumbled up as she slid in behind the wheel of Kate's Acura-whatever. She tore down the drive onto the back road that ran past the house, and cruised the dozen or so miles to the highway before daring to look back. No one was following. The feel of the car roaring beneath her was so powerful and liberating, she wondered why she hadn't done this sooner. Laughing out loud, she gave a whoop that managed to bounce off even the plush interior and ring in her own ears.

The thrill didn't last long, however, and the first shock came when the car began an ominous rattle and whine. "Damn. Just figures I'd pick the wrong one," she muttered to herself. She glanced down at the dash, her only hope of figuring out what was wrong with the vehicle, if she had one at all, and saw the odometer needle twitching at 118.

"Holy crow!"

She pulled her foot off the accelerator, and the engine sighed as if grateful.

* * * * *

Jasper could scarcely fathom it, the pack was larger now than before he and Bella had left. Jacob Black had become a wolf in the last two months, as had several of his young friends. There was even a female wolf, Leah, and her little brother was the youngest member of the pack. Even now, three of them were snuffling down the little trails that forked off the main one, as they followed a west-leading trail about twelve miles from the house. Victoria had obviously been biding her time here in the forest, spending time traipsing over the river and through the pines. There were dozens of trails, and few made any sense to him at all.

Jasper grew more frustrated with himself, thinking how stupid it was to split up. It hadn't even seemed like a good idea at the time, but he was willing to try it. Sam had suggested creating mixed teams of wolves and vampires, since "you might be able to pick up things we can't." What went unsaid was that the vampires would be the minority in each group, making them more vulnerable, and less likely to attempt escape. And that was the greater point, Jasper thought. Overall though, Sam had appeared reasonable--as reasonable as the circumstances would allow--but he refused to budge on the forty-eight hour timetable. The young war-chief had been pushed to the brink, and this was his one irrational sticking point.

Edward had explained Sam's was a leadership of willing followers. As a war-chief, Sam's decisions weren't absolute; the other pack members weren't obliged to follow rule and line, but they were willing to let Sam lead—so far, Edward had said.

The fact that they were young men—hell, even mere children to Jasper and to Edward as well, didn't make them any less dangerous; in fact, it made them more dangerous, more volatile with their quickly shifting emotions. Fortunately, Jasper hadn't felt that shift among his hunting-companions/guards. What he _had_ felt that night was a sort of healing he hadn't expected. It was on the threshold of the house, before they went with Carlisle to meet up with the Quileute.

He sensed the apology before it was on his brother's lips, and before the hand was on his shoulder.

Jasper turned to look into Edward's face.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for her. That I couldn't protect her." He choked out. The waning moon shone a pale light on the familiar golden eyes, and the tiny crinkles of pain at the corners almost gave him back some of the years the Change had stolen.

It was a vague apology in some ways, Jasper thought. He might have been referring to Alice or Bella. Then there was a feeling like a rock dropping into his belly as he realized Edward was talking about both of them.

"I know," Jasper said. "It wasn't your fault."

Edward shook his head and began to protest, but Jasper cut him off.

"There's no fault right here that we don't both bear. And there have been lots of bad choices. They're not limited to me and you." He said it with more heat than he meant, but he held Edward's eyes, and the two truly _saw_ one another for the span of several breaths.

Finally, Jasper added. "I'm sorry too. You don't know how much."

Edward managed a nod, and Jasper returned the grip on his brother's shoulder. After a moment taking strength from one another, they're off to join the wolves. Whatever difficulties still linger between them they can deal with later, provided there's such an occasion.

In the clearing, as they stood among the Quileute youth, Jasper found he had a little more compassion for Carlisle's position. The two semi-circles faced on another. Sam at the keystone of his, Carlisle's in his. And though everyone, including Jasper, clearly expected Carlisle to speak for his family, he deferred to Jasper.

"Jasper will have a better idea than any I can come up with," Carlisle said, when Sam asked for strategies in tracking Victoria. Sam barely managed to avoid a complete double-take, and Jasper was the only one to feel the ambivalence and worry concealed behind Carlisle's strong, calm face. From that point, Sam spoke to only to Jasper, and Carlisle just gave him a tiny nod when Jasper telegraphed his confusion. Carlisle would have turned to Jasper whatever the case, but this entire hands-off approach took him by surprise. Jasper wondered whether it owed to some sort of guilt-debt on Carlisle's part, which seemed unlikely. But he had nothing else to attribute it to. The question chaffed only until the groups were decided and the search areas divided, and he shucked it off choosing to focus solely on bringing Victoria down.

Carlisle had been sent with a group of four wolves including Sam; Edward was with several others including Leah and her brother Seth. Jasper hoped they were having more luck than his group. He kicked a head-sized rock out of the ground in front of him and watched it bounce several feet along the ground, gathering his thoughts before plunging further into the . . .

Victoria seemed to know she'd be tracked eventually, and had been taking care to lay a bizarre network of trails. She'd take to the river, walking upstream instead of down. Several times Jasper followed her scent up a pine so high he doubted she could jump. Sometimes, he found her scent on adjacent trees, but others were lone and had no near-fellow to which she could leap.

_What the hell was she _doing_?_

A little further up the hillside Paul smashed through some snags, causing a crack and rumble like old timber falling.

"If you can't be silent, could you at least try not to sound like a rampaging rhinoceros?" Jasper practically snarled with frustration, and the fact that Paul couldn't reply with any more than a snort and jerk of his massive shoulder made him that much more angry.

It was difficult enough having a team who couldn't, or wouldn't, communicate with him. They'd exchanged few words as men before changing into wolf form, but since then, the Quileutes had done little more than show him a begrudging sort of tolerance. However, Jacob, Paul and Embry seemed to work so well together that Jasper wondered if they could communicate among themselves in some other manner, and that he found disturbing. While killing Victoria was the objective here, the wolves were enemies too. And Jasper did not know these enemies—not like he wished he did.

Fortunately, _they_ didn't know all of the vampire secrets either. One of the boys had voiced frustration that they hadn't managed to find Victoria's "den" as he put it, "where she would hole up to sleep."

A flash of blue caught Jasper's eye, as he sniffed his way through a tangled mess of brush. He plucked up the swatch of cotton/poly that had snagged on a low branch, sniffed at it, and threw it down in disgust.

"She's not _here_," he muttered. "The only reason she'd leave something so obvious would be if she didn't meant to be around when it was found." Jasper kicked at the brush and cursed. One of the wolves, lost from sight by distance and vegetation, gave a short growl of. . . was that solidarity?

They had been going for nearly forty-four hours, and the minutes ate at him like termites in his brain. Through the dark, through the sunlight they never stopped. Jasper constantly monitored and soothed Paul's emotional hum—he had been the one to crumple the front of the car. Jacob, the rust colored wolf, and Embry, the stocky little black, were less volatile, but Jasper wasn't taking any chances on them either. But a dull weariness crept over him. Jasper never needed to sleep, but emotional exhaustion was all too real. It was the sort of thing sleep would help, were he human, but something that could merely be endured.

This was becoming absurd, and he hoped desperately that Carlisle and Edward had already caught her. They hadn't had time to discuss options if they failed.

In his weaker moment, Jasper was seized by the impulse to just tear back straight for the house. He should have just run in and hauled Alice out first thing. Maybe that would have been better than them all being taken down separated and alone. A handful of times, Jasper had been on the verge of speeding back to Alice and take their chances together, just the two of them. But Alice would never have gone for it. _This _was the way to save anyone, if there was a way at all.

_And if we lose, at least Bella will be safe._ The thought so shocked him he dropped it like a drowned kitten. He didn't want to think about Bella right now.

Suddenly, Embry skittered to a stop somewhere down the ridge. Paul and Jasper smelled it at the same moment. The scent came absolutely out of no where. Cedar wood and rosewater—Victoria.

"What the hell," Jasper muttered. Jacob and Paul crashed over to see what had caught their interest.

"Hold," Jasper warned them, holding a cautioning arm to his side. "Something's funny here. Spread out a bit," he instructed them. He wasn't sure they'd take orders, and Paul fell in reluctantly, only after a brief growl from Jacob. And he was more than moderately surprised when the wolves fanned out obediently, Paul taking left and Embry falling into line after Jacob on the right.

Jasper followed the scent into an enormous pine and scaled it. He pursued the scent as far as it reached, until it disappeared. _Again. _And there, swaying at the top of the tree, he finally understood what Victoria had done. She had climbed into the tree, and instead of jumping into another, she had backtracked back down. And what was the point of that? There was a yelp below, and realization hit Jasper like a hammer to the head. Looking down, he saw a blur of ginger-hair.

Paul was at her like a shot--all adrenaline, and careless as a puppy. Jasper saw it coming before Paul even felt it. Victoria caught him under the jaw with her forearm, and the sound of a gunshot which was really the crack of bone. Then she kicked him in the side, like a giraffe striking a lion. Paul landed on his side, ten feet from where he started. He must have lost some ribs with that crack, and Jasper heard the blast of air from his lungs under the pained yelp.

Jasper leapt from the tree, still shy of the mark, and in the split second it had taken him to hit the ground, turn his head to Paul and back to Victoria, she was already a retreating smear of color. Embry was standing over Paul, nosing him gingerly where he lay, teeth bared an in obvious pain. He exchanged a quick look with Jacob, and the two seemed to have a momentary argument, but Jasper couldn't wait to see how it turned out.

He sliced through the trees watching the flicker of Victoria's hair like flame through the trees ahead. Or maybe like the deadly light of a will 'o the wisp. Over the rush of the hunt, he felt a wolf pursuing him hard behind him, paws crunching. Everything screamed _"wrong!"_ and he fought to keep his head on the goal. One of them must have decided to join the chase. Jasper focused his attention hard on Victoria, giving himself to the drive of the chase.

They were several miles on now, and Victoria was gaining ground. It was clear why she had left so many trails now. It was going to turn into a hellacious tracking game if she slipped from sight. Evasion was her gift, Jasper was certain of it. Though he couldn't actually be tired, Jasper felt his body betray him as his pursuit failed to keep pace. His legs couldn't go fast enough, though he pushed himself impossibly faster. He clenched his jaw so hard his teeth seemed to hum. Every cell screamed at him in a panicked exhaustion, and he gave himself entirely to his gut-level desperation.

The landscape changed as they increased in altitude. Vegetation gave way to more rock and scrub brush. She was actually pulling away from him in earnest, and eventually Jasper was following nothing but the faint trace of rosewater on the wind, scrabbling up a steep section of mountain face.

And there he saw it, a small gap among the rocks. Jasper almost smirked. Victoria's "den." He eyed it warily, sniffing the air. It was as mostly clear of her scent here, so perhaps she had just taken a chance. It was a bad idea though. She's cornered. If he had time he could wait her out, but he doesn't.

He's emotionally spent, not from just the last two days, but the two months preceeding. Jasper wants nothing more than to finish this. Every fiber in his body is burning with it. _Now._ Jasper knows it for the foolishness it is, but can't seem to think himself out of acting.

It's pointless to wait to for Jacob, the gap is far too small to permit him passage. As it is, Jasper is barely able to slide through the opening, and he continues on his belly until it gap opens up into a small cavernous area. He lowers himself several feet to the floor below. In here, Victoria's scent is so thick it's like walking into a barnyard. There's no way of telling where she might be. He strains his ears for the faintest sound, his eyes for the tiniest shadow of movement.

Nothing.

He steps further into the cave. She's there somewhere and, by now, she knows he's there too.

"You got away from us once. I don't think you'll manage this time," Jasper says, hoping to draw her out. There is no reply and Jasper slinks further in to the heady darkness. "Why are you here? Bella's one of us now, there's no vengeance you can have for James."

There's a funny sound in the darkness, like a stifled chuckle. But it echoes off the walls, and he can't pinpoint its origin. It's almost pitch black in here, and even vampire eyes need light to see by. At least he's getting to her.

"You should have gone when you had the chance," he says. He's almost surprised by the response when it comes.

"But I'm not after her. You took the girl away from me by changing her, so it's _you_ I want. . . for now."

That's all it takes for Jasper to realize that Victoria isn't in front of him. She's _behind _him. He spins back toward the mouth of the cave, and his eyes have adjusted just enough to see Victoria perched just inside the opening. She's wedged herself in just above the opening to the cavern floor, and she's not more than a snarl of movement dropping toward him.

Their bodies meet in a clash like the ringing of swords, and the vibrations echoed off the wall slamming and rebounding at crazy angles. She's fury and fire, and he's tired and taken by surprise, but determined. They crack arms and legs and faces, each scrabbling for a good handful, or mouthful, of the other. Time and time again Jasper nearly has hands on Victoria, but she seems to slither just out of reach. He thinks of nothing, but fights by reflex; it comes as naturally as sparks popping on a dry day.

The one time he manages to smash her against the wall, Victoria grabs a handful of crushed rock and dust from a jutting ledge and tosses it into his eyes. She spins out of his hold and, for the first time, Jasper felt he might actually be in trouble. There's a sudden burning slash across his chest, and he can feel venom seep from his wound.

Jasper's vision is so distorted it's disorienting, and he must fight with his eyes closed. Curiously, he finds himself stronger without relying on his sight, but he is reduced to reacting now, instead of initiating attacks. During one pass, however, he manages to seize Victoria's arm, and he uses it to slam herself in the face.

That stuns her for a moment, and Jasper presses his advantage, he tries to sweep her legs out from under here, but there's not enough room here, and the two crumple in on one another. He does manage to take a chunk from her shoulder, her venom drips out the sides of his mouth, but she pounces on him and clamp his head under her other arm. She tugs him toward the more open area of the cave, as he frantically digs in with his heels.

His eyes are still closed, but a faint shadow brushes across his eyelids, and a nostril-curling scent meets his nose. Jasper understands immediately what this means and changes tactics. Instead of resisting, Jasper lets Victoria do the work. She jerks at him again, and he rushes her, crashing into her chest. Victoria stumbles backward, and Jasper drives over top, knocking her into the cave wall, just below the entrance.

Suddenly, there's rumble, and the fall of dirt and small rocks. A crash follows, and daylight pours through the side of the hill before it's blocked out by the snarling fury of a wolf. He's all bared teeth, and an enormous clawed paw digging where he has apparently pulled one of the boulders from the mouth of the cave. Before Victoria can even turn the vice-like jaws have snapped on her shoulder. Victoria's cry of rage and shock fills the cave.

Jacob drags her from the cave with one jerk of his head, and Jasper's right behind.

Victoria still won't back down though. As Jasper blinks to clear his vision, he can make out the blood collecting on Jacob's throat. He shakes her loose to get a better purchase, and Jasper dives at her. He catches her by the leg, and they're both on the ground. He sinks his teeth into the soft cords at the back of the knee, and they snap. Victoria shrieks with pain. There's no chance for escape now, but that doesn't stop her from trying. It's this sort of determination that has served her so well in the past. She smashes Jasper's face with a booted foot, and impossibly, his nose crunches.

He's fighting blinded again by the pain, trying desperately to keep hold of Victoria's good leg as she pulls away. Suddenly, Jacob is there, all deadly teeth and vicious growl. And for a moment Jasper's instinct overrides his head-knowledge, and he raises his hand to block the attack. He's flattened to the ground and breathing the hot, wet smell of dog-breath—Jacob is standing over top of him. Squinting, Jasper sees that Jacob has his jaws around Victoria's head. He braces himself for the crunch of skull, but it never comes. Jacob doesn't have the stomach for it. He tries to rip her head off, one paw pinning her back to the ground as he tugs, but it won't come loose. Not until Jasper darts in under the shining fangs and slices through the marble neck. Then, with one mighty heave Victoria's head goes sailing, trailing the curly red hair like the tail of a comet.

Jacob stands frozen for several moments, numbed in the aftermath of what he's done, and not until Jasper clears his throat does he stagger off top of him, looking slightly lost.

"Thank you," Jasper says, after setting his nose, or what ever he has done to ease the throbbing. Jacob just drops his head in a slow, stunned nod. Victoria's body is still twitching, and her limbs are trying to synchronize themselves into crawling in the direction of her head. Seeing this, Jasper makes quick work of dismembering her; Jacob gives a half-hearted effort at helping, but Jasper gently waves him off.

He understood Jacob's reaction well enough. When the rush of battle had faded, and a man was often left with a certain numbness and a niggling fear. He questions how he managed to do what he did. People were capable of greater—and worse—than they truly knew. Jacob did help build the pyre, hauling large branches to Victoria's broken body.

Jasper found Victoria's head without much difficulty. Only for an instant did he allow himself to look into her face. The pale lips mouthed words she couldn't give voice to and her eyes rolled, unseeing. He put her face-down on the pile.

Jasper stepped back and lifted his shirt, to inspect the slice across his ribs. The edges of the wound were healing themselves, but Victoria's venom still burned. He slid the shirt over his head and wiped himself as clean as he could. Jacob made an impatient sound, his eyes flicking toward Victoria's body and back to Jasper's.

"I need to give it a minute. Unless you want to do it," he said, offering the lighter toward Jacob.

Jasper could feel Jacob's wariness of him and knew Jacob had little intention of phasing back into a man in his presence. Especially after seeing what he had done to Victoria.

"How are Paul and Embry?"

Jacob's ears pricked up and gave Jasper a sharp look.

"I figured it out," Jasper said. "You can talk to each other as wolves."

Jacob's wolf face still managed a begrudging look (at admitting the secret, Jasper assumed), but he flicked an ear and gave a jerk of his chin, and he took that to mean that Embry would be fine.

Carefully, Jasper lit the pyre and the flame exploded like a match thrown on kerosene. Jacob shied from the hot blast and even Jasper jumped back. From a safe distance, they watched the murky purple smoke slither its way across the ground. The shifted around the fire carefully as the wind changed directions and blew the fumes their way.

It was almost hypnotic, the movement of the violet smoke. It faded away as his eyes tried to trail it into the darkening twilight. He wanted to enjoy the flames, but Victoria's body was still crackling among them. As horrifying as some of his memories were, the clouds of vampire ash he had seen kick up in dust storms in Texas, there was something comforting and lonesome about fire.

There was often a fire crackling in the hearth in Denali, and even in the Cullen home. Though they no longer needed it for warmth, and it would be their end--if they were ever to have one--there was something friendly and hopeful about a fire.

A funny grief came over him then, pungent and palpable. Would Bella begin to feel the same about fire once she saw another vampire destroyed? Would she know it for both and enemy and a friend? Like death?

No, not yet, he thought, and the knowledge pained him. She was too young to understand the hope of death. But she would, someday. How funny that he was thinking of her again right now, but the thought of her hurt him. He should have been thinking of Alice, whom he loved with all of his being, and whom and could scarcely wait to see again. Instead, a heady guilt assaulted him, oppressive and bitter. He gasped at the intensity of it. After a moment, he realized it was not just guilt, but longing and grief that threatened to smother him. And it was not until that moment he attributed the emotions to their rightful originator.

Jasper turned very, very slowly, and there, not five paces away, Jacob bristled and eyed Jasper with a cutting, ready stare.

Now, with the threat of Victoria past, Jacob was clearly ready to dish out his own cold-serving of revenge.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: It's a short chapter this time. I originally meant for it to have another scene, but decided to post this so as to not keep my faithful, few readers waiting. Only 3 chapters left after this. Enjoy!

CHAPTER IX

Jasper had been well aware of the disadvantage of hunting with the wolves from the outset, but he had felt confident in his ability to deal with their anger before it could cause him any problems.

He just hadn't expected _this_.

Grief was writ large across Jacob's face, and was not any less stirring for being on the face of a wolf. That was easy enough for Jasper to ease, and Jacob's eyes clouded momentarily as he siphoned away the young man's pain.

"I'm sorry. I know was your friend," he said soothingly.

Jacob turned a curious look on him. The grief, having been swept away, gave room for something else, and the force of it made Jasper step back. It wasn't a fiery rage that had gripped Jacob, it was a sense of justice. Unemotional. Ineluctable.

Jacob was a Protector, and Jasper had broken the treaty. It was that simple.

Jacob lunged.

Jasper side-stepped smoothly as Jacob swiped the air with an enormous paw. A wind went with the blow, whipping Jasper's hair. He was quick on his feet, and Jacob was being cautious and didn't press for another immediate lunge. They began to circle one another. A slight breeze brought Jacob's musky wet-dog scent to Jasper and he clenched his jaw against the stench. The hair on the back of the wolf's immense neck straightened like hog's bristles, and Jasper could feel the young man's resolution. His determination to finish the fight. Jasper had been weighed in the balances and found wanting.

He circled round again, hands out, senses primed for any twitch of muscle any change of expression. "You don't want to do this, Jacob. Bella wouldn't want this."

Jacob edged forward, sensing Jasper's irresolution, and growling deep in his chest.

It was Jasper himself who didn't want to fight. He had lost the lust for it as the sickly sweet scent of Victoria's burning corpse had filled his head. Killing left a man empty, no matter how just the cause, and he could appreciate Carlisle's reticence to kill even more greatly as the void threatened inside of him.

It would be the same for Jacob. The young man before him was merely doing what he thought was right, taking a life for the life of his friend. Executing the details of the treaty--an execution, not murder. Not to Jacob. The void would chill him afterward just the same though. And Jasper wasn't ready to die yet.

"Jacob, please listen to me," he said. He kept his voice low and placating, but Jacob stopped looking for an opening. He was patient. So_ patient for so a young man,_ Jasper thought. "I don't want to hurt you,"—Jacob gave a sharp snort that Jasper ignored--"and I didn't want to hurt Bella." Jasper felt blind, groping in the darkness as if in the cave again.

He stumbled forward, metaphorically, relying on something more than base emotional manipulation. "But she's well. She's still Bella. She's not gone." The growl deepened, yet there was in it a faint, mournful overtone. _This _was the opportunity.

"Her life is smaller now, though. I admit it. I didn't mean to . . .change her, but I did. We're going to be all the family she's got now. The Cullens and Alice and me." And _didn't_ that make them all family some how? Jasper thought. And hadn't they been for a while? He didn't have time to analyze that, but dropped the thought and pressed his advantage. "Don't take it from her, Jacob. And don't make me take away one more person she cares for."

Jacob snapped at him for that, the wide jaws crashing shut with a crunch and his ears lying flat against his head again. Jasper held his ground with an effort.

"She remembers you," he said, trying not to rush, trying to let the words have their way, dropping and sinking into the depths of Jacob's feeling. "When a person changes into a vampire, there are only so many memories that remain of the former life. She has no memories at all of childhood friends, Jacob, except for one. She told me she was on a trail near the Sol Duc in Forks. Charlie's taking her fishing, trying to pass on the legacy," he smiled lightly because it allows them a moment of levity, as he tried to smooth a path of understanding between them. Jacob merely blinks. "She fell behind, of course, and tripped, spraining her ankle. Charlie was too far ahead to hear, but her friend, whom Charlie had invited on the outing, is there. He hauled her up on his back and staggered to the river, without complaint."

Jacob's head dropped a fraction of an inch and the muscles of his shoulders gave slightly.

"He sat with her and talked and killed time while he might have been fishing," continued Jasper. "He supported her over the slippery rocks so she could cool her ankle in the water." He lowered his hands as he felt the slightest give in Jasper's resolve.

"She remembers _you_, Jacob. And Bella needs all the friends she can get."

Jacob stopped, eyes still fixed, still assessing, and Jasper stood still and let the silence work between them. The small mournful part of Jacob was expanding and changing, it was readable in his body language, not just in the flavor of his emotions. There was a deep compassion in Jacob, and if it welled in him in response to what has happened to Bella, it is well spent, Jasper thinks. And while the distrust was still there, in the careful set of his head and still-aggressive stance, it was mingled with a certain willingness to yield.

Jasper nodded at nothing, and Jacob gave a huff of breath.

A sudden shift of wind and a gust of smoke raced between them. Jacob's ears pricked and Jasper startled, nearly dropping into a crouch to brace himself for the impact. Instead, the Jacob's head snapped eastward and Jasper followed his regard, eyes piercing through the trees. Wolves, at least two, he couldn't yet make them out, but he could hear them charging through the trees. Jacob growled softly, a steady hum in his chest.

"What's going on, Jacob?" But this was ignored.

A branch cracked, and Jasper saw Quil first then another just behind, charging toward them. Not Paul, though. Not yet. Jasper wondered if _that was _what was happening. Would they take out Paul's injury on him? He bent his knees, slowly lowering his center of balance. This was stupid though, he'd have no choice but to run if three or four wolves took after him.

"Jacob?" he demanded.

Jacob replied with a bark. Then rounded with several more directed at the oncoming wolves who, rumbled to a stop, kicking up fallen leaves and dried needles. There followed a volley of barking, sharp snarls back and forth. It sounded uncannily like an argument. Then, silence fell as the newcomers appear to have backed down.

It appeared to Jasper that he had been spared, and he was filled with the joy in the knowledge that he would soon be with Alice again. In the moment that followed however, the wolves bristle and sensing something beyond Jasper's ken. It's perfectly eerie to watch each wolf turns his nose slowly westward toward. . . nothing that Jasper can discern. It's as if he's looking up into an empty blue sky and his eyes won't adjust to see the flock of blackbirds Alice insists is there.

Something was happening, he just didn't know what, and before he can ask, the wolves are off in a blur of color, tearing once again through the trees, away into the distance.

"What the hell? _Jacob!"_

Jasper took off after them by sheer reflex, and found that he could keep pace relatively easily. He had no doubt he could outstrip them all, but having no idea where they were going, he was relegated to follow. They ran for five miles and Jasper grew increasingly more angry as Jacob didn't reply to his punctuated demands for information. Jacob too is growing increasingly annoyed in turn, but still won't pause. Jasper had all but decided that he didn't need to follow the wolves, his work is done. He has upheld his end of the bargain. . . . When, all at once, a smell like tiny snakes darted up his nostrils and writhed in the sinuses under his eyes. With horror, Jasper looked and made out the smoke above the treetops, the color of poor quality amethyst in darkening sky.


	10. Chapter 10

Thanks to Ava Sinclair for her wonderful Beta

CHAPTER X

Dusk again, and Bella's hands no longer glittered on the steering wheel. It had taken only three hours on the road for her to decide where she was headed. Or, if Bella had been honest with herself, she had known from the moment she slipped the key into the ignition.

The wheels spun gravel as she whipped into the drive leading to the Cullen home, and she braced herself for whatever welcome she would receive. Would there be open arms and cries of delight or an awkward silence and more awkward maneuverings designed to give the impression that, "it's good to see you, but. . . well, this just isn't going to work out." Either way, Bella decided, she wanted to know and get it out of the way. She wouldn't pine away for a man who didn't love her, but she would damn well face him. The idea of him not loving her had burned like a saw through her ribs during the long miles through Canada, and she thought she had it under control now. But despite her attempts at detachment, Bella's heart leapt when she saw the familiar Volvo come into view, but the excitement was quashed catching sight of Irina's vehicle just behind it. Jasper had already arrived, of course. What would she say to _him_? Bella didn't know whether she was more angry or hurt; that sense of abandonment ran marrow-deep. _Well, he'll know how I feel, even if I don't_, she thought bitterly.

In spite of her misgivings, Bella hesitated for only a minute before forcing herself out of the car and marching to the porch.

There was no movement anywhere around, even the air was still. Dead. It hung sticky and heavy with a horrible stink, like laundry left on the line and mildewing. _Just when I thought I was getting used to the smells. _

Bella gave a perfunctory knock before trying the door. It was locked. There was a light on, though; certainly someone would have the guts to open the damned door.

"Hello?" she said. There came the sound of light, quick steps, and a haunted, hopeful voice.

"Bella?"

The door was thrown open suddenly, and Alice appeared wide-eyed in the emptiness. She grabbed Bella by the arm and hauled her over the threshold before crushing her in a peculiar one-armed embrace.

"What are you doing here? You shouldn't be here!"

Bella pulled away, stunned. The world spun. Alice had embraced her, and then told her she didn't belong. Alice must have read the look on her face.

"I'm so glad you are, though. Bella, I've missed you so much!" But Bella blinked, benumbed, as Alice took her arm and brought her in. "I'm so glad you're here. How can you doubt it?" And the second embrace nearly crushed Bella's ribs, and Bella let herself dissolve into it. She was loved and wanted, and her best friend was clinging to her, not only in joy but in a frightening desperation--and with just one arm.

"You're hurt! What happened?" Bella pulled away and ghosted one hand beside Alice's body, where her other arm should have been. Without waiting for an explanation, she barreled on. "Where is everyone?" Was it just Alice now? What if Alice had the best of it, and the smell. . . . What the hell was that? Bella's guts crawled with fear.

"They've gone, Bella. They've gone to hunt Victoria," Alice explained. Suddenly, Esme sailed down the stairs behind her and pulled Bella in to a fervent hug. Conflicting emotions warred inside Bella's head, joy at being accepted but bewilderment as she fought to grasp whatever explanation Alice was giving her for the mostly empty house that night.

_Wolves, yes, that make sense_, Bella felt herself nodding dumbly, now seated on the couch, her hand in Esme's. _That was the smell is._ _And Carlisle, Edward and Jasper have gone to hunt Victoria with them? _The very idea cut her breath, even if she didn't need it to breath, the sensation was still painful at first. She didn't know anything about the wolves really, other than that they were deadly to vampires--and that one had taken Alice's arm.

Bella tried hard to not stare down at Alice's empty sleeve. _Please, don't let Jacob have been the one._

She wanted to sob with the sheer horror of it.

"They should be home soon, I think," Alice said, sounding frantic, and more hopeful than certain. "There's only a few hours left. But--" she pulled her cell phone from her pocket and flipped it open with a deft snap of her wrist. "I don't know, I can't get anyone on the cell!" She demonstrated, hitting speed dial 1 for Jasper, and a dull dusty voice informed them that the user was out of range or had no service.

Bella jumped to her feet.

"I have to go, then. I can show them that I'm all right! That's what they're mad at, isn't it? The treaty was about someone _dying_."

Esme shook her head and reached again for her hand. "It's splitting hairs, Bella. For Charlie, and the pack, you _aren't_ all right. You're dead, Sweetheart."

Bella turned away and gripped her head in her hands. It was true, but she hated hearing it, hated living in a corpse.

It was Alice's cold hand, pulling Bella's from her eyes. "Where are the Denalis? How did the Denalis let you come alone?" she asked.

Bella shook her head, as if to toss the idea from her head. "They went out. I came alone." She didn't mention how she had all but driven Irina away, feeling the weight of that drop into her belly like an anvil. "I'm so sorry for this. I never wanted any of you to get into trouble, and I have to do what I can to make it up to you."

"What you _have_ to do is stay here, Bella!"

Bella gripped her friend by the one good shoulder, the other hand on her Alice's cheek. She knew then how wrong she had been. They had truly been in danger, and they would have been with her if they could have. And yet, couldn't they have called, at least? _Anything?_ Bella felt herself sliding away from the moment, and forced herself back to the most pressing issue.

"I can't. If they're out there, I can't hide here, Alice," she insisted.

Alice's face tightened with anger and embarrassment. If she could have flushed, she would have.

"Then, I'm coming with you too!"

"You're hurt, Alice! And this isn't about you," objected Bella.

"How dare you say that! This _is_ about _my family_. I'm not letting you go alone. If you're going, I'm going with you."

"Well, I won't be left here waiting to see who comes home again." Alice and Bella turned to Esme in shock. Her jaw was set in a stern, determined way that Bella had never before seen on her. "I couldn't bear it," she said in a hoarse whisper. Alice finished sizing Esme up too, and didn't even bother arguing, she just turned to Bella, waiting for her to give in. But she wasn't ready, just yet. She could still plead.

"Please, let me go, just me. They won't hurt me."

Alice shook her head, frustrated. "You're a vampire, Bella. They don't want vampires around. That's the point!"

Bella blinked. She hadn't really thought of it like that before, she assumed it would be enough simply to be a victim of these vampires, as if that would somehow give her immunity. She doubted it now, but refused to give in.

"Jacob's my friend. He wouldn't let anything happen to me," she argued.

Esme and Alice looked dubious.

"Then, by that same measure, they shouldn't hurt _us_ if we're with you," said Esme, firmly.

Bella just shook her head, but not in negation, in flat helplessness. She had never seen Esme put her foot down, because whenever she did, she would win every time, Bella realized. And now there was no time to lose. Something in the woods seemed to claw at her and pull her into the gathering darkness. Edward was out there, Jasper and Carlisle. Bella wanted to save them all.

"Ok, let's go then," she breathed.

Outside, the women tested the wind for the best path. Bella flinched, at first, finding it hard to breath deeply with the stench of the wolves so thick in the air. It took a deal of concentration and she was painfully drawn to where Edward's scent was the strongest, a path leading south from the house. It was agonizing how much she wanted to follow it, but she knew she had to turn away when Alice pointed out Sam's scent.

"Jasper said he's their war chief. He'll be the one to show yourself to," she said.

"Then that's where we'll go," Bella said, determinedly. She clenched her teeth, honed in on Sam's scent, and tore off into the darkening forest. Emse and Alice were running close to her, fleet and deer-footed. Their presences were warm and comforting as a new fleece blanket, even in spite of the peril of the situation. Bella's senses were drawn tight as piano strings, and she thought for a moment that she felt the rumble of a car on the drive now distant behind them. Alice paused, threw a glance over her shoulder, but brushed it off to keep pace with Bella and Esme.

Bella had been amazed by her new senses before, but it was nothing like this, now when she was truly focusing on hunting, not just prey--not just anything with blood in its veins--but an actual, specific target. Her nerves thrummed. She could feel each irregularity in the ground beneath her feet, hear the octaves of sound as a breeze fingered the long pine needle, distinguish between the gamey scent of Sam, and other oppressive, wolfish funk, and the more pleasant scents that had mingled in the Cullen home. A less disciplined part of her mind was amused, and wondered whether the patchouli scent was Carlisle's.

She was tearing along weaving in and out of pines, when she became aware of something behind her, and the sensation was like daggers in her back.

Esme felt it too. "Someone's following us," she said, losing a step.

"Behind us doesn't mean they're following us," replied Alice, sounding uncertain.

"Wolves?" Bella asked stopping hard, kicking up dirt. She tested the air. "Maybe I should go to them. If they're wolves the point is to find them and show them I'm safe."

But even as she said it, he scent was fading. It was probably just some air mass carrying the smell of long passed wolves.

The women exchanged glances, questioning and answering with their eyes. They had the unknown before, the unknown behind, and one goal.

"Sam," said Alice.

"Sam's the one we want," Bella agreed with a nod.

They raced on for another several minutes, and Bella grew more hopeful. Sam's scent grew more and more pronounced in her nose. Funny, Bella thought, as a human, you got used to smells relatively quickly—one became quickly used to a mild stimuli so long as it didn't change in intensity, but as a vampire, she was constantly aware of them.

Or perhaps not.

Esme had stopped again, her ear head cocked, eyes wide, terrified to hear whatever it was something, but listening for it anyway.

Bella stopped trying to scents and listened hard. A faint cry made her stony flesh crawl--a wail that might have been the wind soughing through the uppermost pine needles. She fervently hoped it was, and Esme turned and fled toward the sound before Bella had quite convinced herself otherwise. Bella wouldn't have believed Esme could be so fast, as she and Alice ran after her, navigating the wake of stirring leaves Esme churned up in her desperate sprint.

What? _Who?_ Bella wondered, terrified.

Alice must have had an inkling, must have picked up on something Bella had missed. "No," she breathed.

She could distinguish voices now, and she knew them. But it couldn't be. . . . The Denali sisters? Had it been them on the drive? Had they followed her after all? Of course they had, and it was with terror, rather than gratitude that Bella accepted this obvious fact of their caring for her.

After what seemed like an eternity, there came one agonized scream, and Bella joined Alic and Esme in a small clearing. Bella nearly ran into Esme, so quickly had she stopped.

Esme gave a strangled cry. "No!"

Bella's mind was numb, she could scarcely make sense of the stimuli flooding her. There was a vicious snapping, and a dull roaring sound, like a far-off jet plane. The angry rustling of branches. And an ominous popping and crackling.

Then she saw them, across the clearing. Bella's brain scrambled to put names to the two forms, clinging to the top of an ancient denuded pine. She finally found them, and understood with dull horror what was happening. Only Tanya was clutching the tree, Kate was shrieking, flailing, as if something were attacking her. She was attempting to jump out of a tree and pounce on the tawny brown wolf below. _A wolf!? It's _enormous_!_ Bella thought with shock. Tanya was screaming and struggling furiously against her sister, her words a muddle of grief and terror and anger.

"Stop, Kate, it's too late!"

"Irinaaa!" Kate screamed. "I'll kill you mutts. Kill you!" Her eyes shot fiery daggers below.

Kate broke an arm free from Tanya's hold, and she tried to launch herself to the ground.

"No, Kate. Please!" Tanya pleaded.

Where _was_ Irina? Bella's numbed brain mumbled. She looked to the ground, and made out a young man, stark naked. She hadn't even noticed him at first, so startled was she by the wolf.

And there seemed to be some odd sort of ground fog. But then, Bella saw a spurt of orange flame, and the fog became a fuzzy blur of purple smoke. Only then did she know what the crackling was, the voice of the most ominous fire she had ever seen. It popped again sending embers high into the air, and the naked boy threw his forearm over his face and scurried back fromthe blaze.

"No!" Bella screamed. "Leave them alone! Stop!" Bella's throat tore with her screams.

"Leave them alone!" Before she could think, she was running for the center of the clearing. She didn't know what she meant to do, and the boy standing there beside it, stared at her momentarily before rippling and exploding into another wolf form.

At that, the brown wolf beneath the tree turned his back from Kate and Tanya to snarl at Bella, stopping her dead in her tracks. A breeze kicked through the fire blasting embers and smoke toward her. _Irina,_ but she tried not to think it. The smell hit her so hard her vision blurred. Bella tried to shake off the pain when there was a sudden roar in her ears, like a distant foghorn, and her peripheral vision caught movement to her left.

Her diaphragm reacted on reflex and dragged in just enough air to scream as a third wolf, black and furious, tore out of the underbrush and charged toward her, fangs bared in a deadly grimace.

**A/N** I do apologize for two cliffhanger chapters in a row. There won't be anymore as there are only 2 chapters left in this story. Besides, I don't want to be cruel to my kind readers. Thanks for all of the encouragement; I do reply to every review.


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER XI

It was the flames that caught Jasper's eye first, insatiable orange tongues lapping greedily through the plume of purple smoke. It might have mesmerized him, the horror of those colors, but just beyond them he saw Bella, her face a wavering through the waves of smoke--and a large black wolf hurtling toward her.

_What the hell?_ Something inside of him bellowed. He pushed harder, running impossibly fast, legs churning. A snarl tore from his chest, and he leapt, twenty yards at least, and plowed into the wolf, which yelped in shock and pain. The two rolled over and over, locked against one another. Jasper had a mouthful of muscle and fur. The muscles of his throat rebelled and tried to gag it out, but beyond the stench of dog, something else came to him as he grappled with his enemy. He could smell Alice.

_No! No! Please, no!_ The image of the flames was too recent, even the _possibility_ of Alice being there--imagining her in the flames--twisted his insides to the point of retching. _Please, not Alice!_ He couldn't think—wouldn't think—and he dove with full abandon into his fear and rage. The wolf tore himself away from Jasper's grip, leaving blood and matted fur between his teeth, but it charged back in undaunted. A whistle of air went with the snap of jaws, as they crashed mere millimeters away from Jasper's stony skin, and, holding nothing back Jasper dodged and lunged back toward the wolf. He wasn't going to play safe; he wasn't playing at all anymore. If Alice were gone, he had no care for what lay ahead. He'd fight until one of the wolves took him down. And the sooner the better. He'd rather his ashes blow away with hers, the smoke of his corpse mingle with hers in the night. Better to never see the dawn again, than know there would never be another one for his mate.

He was in his zone now. The world seemed to slow. He could anticipate the wolf's approach, see every twitch of muscle before the move was made. And he despaired. He could never be beaten now. Not by this wolf, not alone. Several would have to take him on at once, and he hoped they would come soon.

The wolf pounced at him, ill anticipating Jasper's response. Jasper seized the wolf by the front paws, and flung it across the clearing. As the beast hurtled helplessly through the air, Jasper's senses exploded. He saw and felt everything all at once. He could smell Alice more strongly than ever, hear Bella's terrified gasp and cry. Several crows swooped past an old snag, and attracted his attention to a far tree. The wolf had not yet landed, and there came another wolf charging toward him, as if it were moving in slow motion. Everything was moving at a snail's pace. Even his mind. It vaguely registered someone in the tree.

Kate. _Huh_. Kate panting and howling with agony. And Tanya was there. Clutching frantically at her sister. Fighting, screaming, begging her to stay in the tree.

Something terrifying was scrambling around it Jasper's guts now, and someone was screaming his name. Alice was running toward him. She was moving fast, he knew she must be, but it seemed so, so slow.

Her mouth was open, screaming. Her lips formed his name. But it wasn't her voice he heard.

"Jasper! Watch out!"

The second wolf, plowed into him. Jasper caught himself in the face with his knees. He could feel his nose crunch against his knee cap. Even as he was tumbling over the ground, he was aware of the yet more new arrivals in the clearing. Carlisle. . . Edward. . . and a number of large, heavy heart-beats. More wolves. He caught himself on this feet, like a cat, and turned just in time to meet the impact of the wolf again.

But Alice was there first. "Stop! Stop!" She threw herself into the large red wolf, who did not budge far but crouched back, snarling, cautious. It did not spring back at her because somehow the world had slammed to a halt.

Jasper shook his head. The clearing was crowded now. He gazed around in disbelief. All of the Cullens were there with wolves scattered among them in a large ring. Jacob stood guard over the black wolf with whom he had been sparring, teeth bared, making a barrier between them with his body. Kate and Tanya were still in the snag above. Alice slid up against his side, and his arm went around her on instinct, just as naturally as putting one foot in front of another. Smoke drifted. Tall grasses swayed. The air was filled with the raspy panting from tired lungs and heavily thudding hearts.

But everyone else's eyes were fixed on the two figures in the middle of their untidy circle, and Jasper turned his attention to them as well. Bella stood, chin lowered, not as if she was having trouble lifting her head, but like a bull with horns ready for gouging. Her fists were clenched as an enormous wolf approached, drawing within ten feet of her.

Edward strode toward Bella, who didn't take her eyes from the wolf. The hairs on the wolf's neck bristled, but Edward didn't slow. He drew up beside her and reached for her hand. She did not grip it back, and Edward let his slide back to his side with a blink. Otherwise, his face was carefully composed, much as Bella's was, but Jasper could feel various degrees of fear and doubt coursing through his adopted younger brother as Edward provided a united front with Bella.

For her part, any uncertainty Bella might have had was stomped down hard under her unrelenting determination. Jasper had never felt her so focused, so single-mindedly fixed. He stared at her in disbelief, and held Alice more tightly to him.

"Are you Sam?" Bella asked the wolf.

The wolf shuddered, rippled, and rose. He was a man again, naked in front of her, but without any sense of shame. In fact it was Bella who looked awkward now, and she was fighting to not look away. Jasper could feel Edward's protectiveness rearing up inside of him, as if he should protect her from seeing a man's body. But Bella held her own.

"You're Bella Swan," Sam said finally, as if it answers her question.

"I am. Please, don't hurt them. They--"

"Did you choose to be made a blood drinker?"

Bella's mouth popped open. "I did," she said, and forced a nod. "I did."

Sam watched her carefully, his eyes narrowing. "And if you could do it over, would you make the same choice?"

Jasper saw Bella twitch. Her eyes flickered from Sam's to his own, and for the first time, he saw the woman inside of the girl.

"Yes." She met Sam's gaze squarely then. Hiding nothing, withholding nothing. "Yes, I would."

It seemed like the entire world was holding its breath as the two spoke. The breeze had died down. There were no sounds of nocturnal animals in the vegetation surrounding them. But across the clearing he saw Esme's shoulder slump slightly; her mouth opened as if she meant to speak, but nothing came out. Carlisle leaned his temple against Esme's hair.

"Do you intend to be a part of this . . . _coven_?" Sam's spits the word, as if it was distasteful in his mouth.

"I want to stay with the Cullens. If they'll have me," she adds.

Edward spun toward her, looking stricken. "Of _course_—"

"You will not kill humans?" Sam said over him, and this time Bella's steady look wobbles.

"I don't—I don't want to kill people." She took Edward's hand then.

Sam looked from Bella to Edward and back again. His tongue poked out from his mouth and pressed his top lip against his teeth. He might have questioned harder there, Jasper thought, but Sam relented. Whether from compassion or that he might have already understood what was behind that remark, Jasper didn't know. But it didn't matter.

"Then _don't_," Sam growled. "Leave, and never come back here. But if I ever hear of you harming anyone, I will take it personally. And it doesn't matter where on this earth you are, I will fulfill my obligation to my ancestors."

He did not yell or raise his voice, but his meaning was cool and certain. It was not a threat, it was a simple reality.

"Thank you." Bella's voice quivered. "It's good of you to let us go."

"It's not for you," he said. "It's for the sake of our friendship with your father. Go, before I change my mind."

Sam did not move a muscle, and Bella blinked first. She looked up into the darkening sky where a handful of stars now shone overhead and she took a deep, audible breath. When, at last, she lowered her face, she looked directly into Edward's.

* * * * *

They had been given one hour back at the house, and it took no time at all. The Cullens had already packed their most important belongings, Alice explained, the things that money could not replace, but they could make another pass, say goodbye a "proper goodbye" to yet another home.

Bella felt gutted. Maybe it was just another house to the Cullens, but felt attached to it. It was a connection not only to the Cullens, but to Charlie and her life at Forks. The life that _was_. She ran a hand mindlessly along the top of Edward's baby grand.

Neither Kate nor Tanya had said a single word to her, neither to assuage her guilt nor compound it. They were absorbed, completely crippled by their loss. Kate, once her initial rage had passed, seemed scarcely aware of where they were. It had taken both Tanya and Carlisle, one on either arm, to get her to the house. She had moved as if through mud, and not the cool autumn air.

Bella sighed closed her eyes. She could hear Esme's voice from the second floor. She was on the phone with Rosalie.

"The rest of us are fine," Esme whispered, sounding almost apologetic as she was firm. "We're _fine_. What do you and Emmett want from the house?" she asked.

She turned her face into Edward's chest.

"I killed her. Irina." Bella said.

"No you didn't. Don't say that."

"I was being selfish. I ran off like a spoiled brat."

"It's not your fault."

She shook her head but brought it to rest against him again. She hated the clichés just as badly as she wanted to hear them.

Jasper and Carlisle were doing their best to comfort the remaining Denali sisters as Alice ran back and forth collecting items here and there, Bella could hear her feet skimming along the high-loft carpet.

And yet, all of these things merely happened around Bella, as if she were in a three-sixty theatre, and she might reach out and skim the screens with her fingertips. Was there any sort of substance anywhere? She might have lost hold of reality all together if not for Edward's fingers running behind her head, against her skull, and drawing through the length of her hair. With a sigh, she pressed her face into his neck and breathed him in, reassured by his solidness.

The carefully constructed dam that was holding back her emotions trembled and several leaks appeared, letting little streams of grief, and anger and guilt trickle through. Soon there would be more holes than she had fingers to plug them.

"Why didn't you come for me?" she asked, her voice cracking with the tears she couldn't shed.

"It wasn't safe." Edward's voice was equally hoarse.

"You've disappeared before, right? It couldn't be that hard to just avoid the cops all together? Wait a generation or two and the law would have to let it go, huh?" The reality of that happening was perfectly reasonable for immortal vampires, and yet it seemed so ludicrous. Bella felt a rising hysteria inside of her, but Edward's body tightened, his shoulder going hard against her cheek, a defensive reaction. Yet Bella felt him give a tiny nod.

"Yeah."

"You're keeping something from me," she whispered. "What is it?"

There was a long pause before Edward answered. "I don't know. I really don't."

"Who are you trying to listen to? Whose thoughts?" Bella asked, without needing to. She knew they were Alice's.

"I would have come to you. I should have done it sooner!" His hand left the small of her back, and struck the wall behind him, leaving a hole in the drywall.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—criticize," Bella said, quickly, feeling unreasonably frightened all of the sudden. She didn't seem to be able to control her emotions. She was losing her balance. And the one rational part left of her brain said, _what better time to ask then?_

"Do you still want me?" she blurted.

"How can you even ask that? Of course I want you!" He took her sharply by the shoulders and locked eyes with her, his face only inches from her own. Bella could see the tiny flecks of gold dust in those beautiful eyes. "But—if. . . do you want me?"

"Of _course_ I want you! What's wrong with you?" She laughed, an angry, hysterical laugh, and stroked the crazy, rumpled hair from his forehead. Then, pulling herself together, she smoothed away the anxious lines engraved in his forehead with her fingertips. She couldn't help but smile. A sad, hopeful smile. "Can you still not read my mind?"

Edward looked surprised, and then replied with a small smile of his own. "If I could, I would have expected that question. As it is, it came right out of the blue."

Bella draped one arm around Edward's neck, and resting her hip against the piano.

"You can't take it, can you?" She tapped a fingernail against one of the white keys.

Edward shrugged. "I can get a new one."

Bella reached up with the other arm and locked them both around Edward, and he relaxed into her, sighing with relief. He was just like she remembered. Except different. He no longer looked like an Adonis, he looked like a tired young man, stricken with grief. He was no longer sinless perfection. _But that's just as well, _Bella told herself, I'm not perfect either. Nevertheless, it was hard to admit. She had been so love-stuck, so infatuated by the vampire, she had forgotten her was just a person, a non-human person. _We need time,_ she told herself_. So much has changed. _

Her tired thoughts drifted back to the question Sam had asked in the clearly.

_"If you could do it over, would you make the same choice?" _

It wasn't a fair question, Bella decided. You can't live retroactively, and you can't move forward depending on 20-20 hindsight. She might have argued that point with Sam, but she could see Jasper's face, frozen but still ferocious, and somehow so very vulnerable.

But Bella had no doubt Jasper would be killed if she had been any less convincing. It was only that knowledge that kept the truth pressed so far down, far beyond expression on her glass face. _Yes_, she had said. It was the most noble lie she had ever told.

Edward's lips were against her temple now, and his breath slid down her face. "Pianos come and go, but I could never find another you, Bella. I just hope _I'm_ worth what you've lost. I'm going to make it as good for you as I can."

"I know you will," she said, and returned the kiss onto his jaw.

That would have to do.

* * * * *

They took every minute of their hour, but by the time Bella made her way down the porch, she couldn't have said whether it passed too quickly or dragged on eternally. The porch light was clicked off and the front door locked, and the vampires made their ways to the cars.

They were parsing themselves evenly among the vehicles. Tanya insisted on taking Irina's Audi, but Esme said she would drive—and brooked no argument on the matter—she didn't want Tanya driving alone. Carlisle was taking Kate in his Mercedes. There had been some quiet argument about Jasper perhaps joining them, to do what he could for Kate, but in the end, it was decided he should be with Alice, the two of them taking Kate's Acura. Jasper agreed evenly, but Bella knew he must have been relieved to have Alice to himself for a while. Bella was joining Edward in the Volvo.

She and Edward were attempting to arrange one more bag into the trunk when heavy footfalls sounded far down the drive. Bella spun on her heel.

Even with no more light than that from the waning crescent, Bella could make out Jacob easily. He stood in the middle of the drive, jacket-free with his arms at his sides and two bags at his feet.

Every vampire froze, including Bella, but she shook off the shock and strode out to meet him her old friend.

He approached carefully in spite of their history. Jacob was a veritable monster of a man now. If she hadn't recognized his still-kind, boyish, face she wouldn't have known him at all, wouldn't have recognized him as her friend. His arms were round and thick, his chest like a bull's. And yet, those eyes above those handsome curved cheeks gave her a familiar, easy comfort. The cheeks plumped as he offered her something, not-quite-a-smile, in return as he sized her up, in turn. Bella knew her own eyes were odd, a muddy reddish, like that sacred mountain in Australia, and remembering this, she gave up all the effort it took to fake her own smile.

Jacob cleared his throat. "This is for you." She took the reusable grocery bag from him and pulled one side open with a forefinger, but it was too dark to see inside. "It's just some mementos. Pictures and that sort of thing. Of you." Jacob looked down. "That other girl. . ."

"Alice?"

"Yeah, I guess. Alice. She thought you'd want some things. . . to remember. That's what she said, I think. So afterward. . . . I talked with Charlie. . . ." Jacob cleared his throat again and reached back to the battered rucksack behind him. A look of distaste crossed his features, and he grimaced handing it over to her. It smelled frightening, but Bella knew what was in there.

"I hope it heals back, ok. If she's really your friend, and all."

Bella nodded, feeling numb. _How very little an arm weighs,_ she thought.

"I'll miss you, Bella. I wish I had known sooner. . . about all of this." Jacob's nostrils flared slightly as he tried to fight back his emotions. "Maybe we could have avoided. . . ."

Bella shook her head. "We couldn't. I love Edward. This was my choice."

"So you said," Jacob countered, his voice suddenly harsh. "Wouldn't have been your dad's though. Or your mom's."

It was a like a knife to her heart, and Bella heard Edward draw sudden breath to protest. She held up a warning hand to him, though. Jacob spoke no more than the truth.

"How is Char—Dad? How's my dad doing?" The words choked out of her, and Bella couldn't even bring herself to ask about her Mom.

Jacob bit his lips together, his nostrils flaring again. Then he shook his head and scuffed the ground with the heel of one ruined shoe. "He misses you Bella. You're his only kid." Bella shuddered. "But He'll make it," Jacob added quickly. "Charlie'll be ok."

"I wish I could see him."

He gave her a long look, reading her mind easily. "You can't come back, Bella. I wouldn't hurt you for anything, but—"

"I know—"

"—And I don't want anyone else to hurt you either. But I don't know if I could stop them." Bella was nodding and nodding, staring right through him. She couldn't seem to stop her head from bobbing. Eventually, she met Jacob's eyes again.

"Will you, you know, keep an eye on him for me?"

The Adam's apple dipped in Jacob's throat. "I will. And, maybe, you can drop a line sometime, all right?"

Bella thought hard before offering a tiny nod.

An awkward moment passed then, as they stood with one another for perhaps the last time. Bella wanted to hug him, take some body memory away from the moment. She wondered what it might feel like to be held against that unrecognizable chest in those massive arms. It was sort of frightening. With her eyes closed, it would be like hugging a stranger, but just knowing there was someone left who could remember her from Before. The touch of a friend, no matter what the wrappings.

In the end, she just nodded uncomfortably, and Jacob backed away a step. And then another, and then he turned and headed down the drive, and slid into his little orange car which leaned hard toward the driver's side as Jacob's weight hit the seat.

Bella watched white tail lights edge around the corner of the drive, and flicker through the trees. She stood until she could no longer hear the little putter of the engine, and she sighed. Wolf was still heavy on the air, and she knew the pack would be watching until all of the vampires were well away from Forks.

"Come on, Love." Edward took her hand into his, and together went to give Alice her arm.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N Last chapter. I hope you enjoy

CHAPTER XII

Damned bucket seats. Alice was no more than two feet away from him, but it was too far. And even if they weren't separated by a gap between the seats, Jasper still couldn't reach out and tuck her against him as Carlisle had admonished her to keep her healing arm completely immobile. Instead, Jasper let his eyes drag the smooth pale flesh of her shoulder before flicking them back to the road. Her arm seemed to be mending well. There was a faint seam just below the round of her shoulder, but even that was fading. Alice drummed her fingers along her leg, as she had done for the last couple of hours or so, testing her increasing range and ability. Eventually, her hand came across and landed atop his on the gear shift. Kate preferred a standard. As did Jasper.

It made his heart race to feel her fingers on his, but he only said, "Carlisle told you not to extend your arm."

"It's fine," she said, giving his fingers a squeeze, but she brought her arm back to her side and lay her hand in her lap.

They were headed to Chicago where Edward still had some property--his family's old home. Bella wouldn't be able to stay there in the city, of course, but it would serve as a good base for the family. There was no telling how long Kate and Tanya would stay, and Rosalie and Emmett had promised to meet them there.

The four-vehicle caravan was moving speedily eastward. Edward and Bella had brought up the rear, originally, but as usual, Edward had been unable to keep his foot from the floor, and passed them on a rare straight stretch through Idaho half-hour previously. Jasper hadn't caught sight of them since.

They were heading up a long pass in the middle of nowhere, when they came to a shoulder on the outer edge of a long curve. The full moon poured down like quicksilver, and Jasper stopped so quickly he could smell rubber on the asphalt behind them. Alice scarcely had time to give a surprised little cry before Jasper was pulling her out her passenger's side door and into his arms. She clutching him tightly and he savored the feel of both her arms around him. With a desperate groan, he took her collar bone gently between his teeth. Alice shivered against him.

"Didn't see that coming, did you?" he asked her.

"You decided too quickly," Alice said, and flicked her tongue against the little hollow of his neck.

Jasper sighed, stepped away from his wife, and crossed his arms in front his chest. His desperate, painful fear had faded, only to be replaced with a dull frustration. Nevertheless, he found himself captivated momentarily by the moonlight shining on his beloved's face, her dark eyes reminded him of amber set in platinum. As he gazed at her, those beautiful eyes widened and went vague; Alice had read his body language, and now was attempting to read ahead.

"No. You stay here with me," he said firmly. He didn't move toward her, or touch her to bring her back in. The words alone were enough, but she focused in on him with an obvious effort, and a rueful look.

"What have you been playing at?" he asked.

To her credit, Alice didn't feign ignorance, just shook her stubborn little head at him.

"I know there was a lot you couldn't see once the Quileute got involved," Jasper continued, volume rising, "but before that? You could have come to us. You could have left any time!"

"I'm sorry," Alice said, and put her right hand to the back of her neck. It was one of his favorite gestures on her, such a masculine posture on her petite pixie frame, but he wasn't going to let it distract him tonight.

"You could have been killed! I couldn't bear to be without you, Alice."

Her expression twisted as if she were in pain.

"I'll tell you someday, Jazz. I promise. But later, all right?"

"How much later?"

"_Later_ later. Please, trust me."

"It had better be good, Alice. _Damn_ good," Jasper said, drawing her back to him. "I love you so much," he murmured into her hair. Alice snaked her arms back around him, and he felt her passionate strength down her arms—both of them, and he let her hold on this time.

"I love you so much too," she said.

* * * * *

By the time the burn in Bella's throat was hurting too much to hide, Edward was already turning south off I-80 in Iowa. It was late morning, but he promised there was no one who might inadvertently cross into her line of scent during her hunt. Be that as it might, he stuck close, sprinting alongside her effortlessly as she took down a fat white-tailed deer only a couple of miles from the parking area in Springbrook State Park. And while she drank, Edward watched her with a carefully guarded expression.

She drained the animal quickly, in frantic gulps, and pulled away sated as possible on animal blood alone. The best Bella could say about the taste of whitetail was that it was better than moose, and she tried to keep the disgust from her face. There was a spray of blood on the front of her shirt from when she bit into the doe's carotid, and she looked down at it in dismay. She had been getting neater in her hunting, but she had been too thirsty to make a good job of it this time. It was frustrating not to have performed better with Edward watching.

She rose to her feet and considered that for a moment. Their ride so far had been amicable on the surface, but strained beneath. There were long periods of silence broken by longer stretches of idle chatter as they assiduously tried to avoid the painful reality of the past few hours, and the preceding weeks. And as much as Bella now wanted to prove herself to Edward and impress him, she was angry at wanting those things as well.

There was a very faint smile on Edward's lips as he stared back at her. The sunlight glinted off his lips as he spoke.

"What is it, Bella? I can't read your mind, you know." he said lightly.

"What do you want for us, Edward?" she asked, walking toward him.

"I want for you to be happy.."

She shook her head with a snap. "Not good enough. Do you want me?"

His expression was stunned and hurt. "How can you ask that?"

"How can I ask that? I've been gone for weeks and the only letter you send takes half a sheet of paper?"

Edward licked his lips, anxiously.

"I have letters for you. Long letters," he said. "I wrote to you every day. I kept them in a folder."

"Why didn't you _send_ them?" she hissed. "Lots of good they do in a folder!" She cuffed him on the shoulder so hard he actually staggered back a step. Bella choked on a sob, but was glad he didn't fall, or she might have been tempted to kick him, shrieking.

"I didn't want you to feel obliged to me," Edward explained, taking her hand between them as if keeping her from attacking him, or perhaps comforting her. "So many things could change. I had no idea whether you might see things differently from. . . this side. If you were having second thoughts, I didn't want to make it any worse. Everyone in the family had a choice--" Edward stopped himself with a wince; it wasn't exactly true, not in every respect. "Everyone had the choice to either follow natural vampire instincts, or follow the 'higher nature,'" he amended.

"Higher nature," that's what Carlisle called it.

"I made the choice on my birthday," Bella told him.

Edward looked down at her hand, watching the sun sparkle along her knuckles as he rocked it back and forth in his own.

"But that was a lifetime ago," he said. "Everyone made the choice after being turned. You needed to be able to make it without feeling pressured."

"You didn't want to put your thumb on the scales, of whether I'd take human life or not? Whether it meant losing you or not?"

Edward dropped her hand and drew his fingers roughly through his hair. "Let me assure you, that even if you chose to take human blood, I would still want you, Bella. You were not going to 'lose' me." His voice was hoarse and low--repentant. Whether toward his behavior toward her or the admission that he would keep a murdering vampire mate, Bella didn't know. "I just didn't want you to feel obliged to me in any way," he finished.

"It wasn't fair to do that, to keep that from me," Bella said evenly. "But it wouldn't have made a difference. It _didn't_ make a difference. I want you, Edward. That's why I'm here."

He nodded, eyes closed. "I'm sorry."

Bella's heart was warmed suddenly toward him, as if the sunlight was somehow penetrating her dead, marble flesh. "Me too. I think I understood how you felt, a little. That's why I went for Forks." She could scarcely bear to think, had it been a mere eighteen hours ago that she pulled into her old home? How long eighteen years had seemed to her as a human--but now, with years upon years upon years stretching out in front of her, she could truly understand Edward's reluctance to change her. She was starting to realize how young she truly had been. Truly was. How much more might she understand in fifty years--or _one hundred_ and fifty-years from now? Time had changed drastically, and with it, her own emotions. Whereas before, as a human, guilt and embarrassment lingered long, now they seemed to linger even longer. Did those emotions cling with respect to a person's lifetime to feel them?

The guilt she felt over killing the two hikers in Alaska was still palpable, and she would long grieve Irina and her role in Irina's death. How much more profoundly would she grieve her father and mother, even her human friends? She knew Esme still grieved the son whom she had held in her arms for mere days over half a century ago. Edward still grieved his parents. Even Alice grieved her family-- the parents who might have put her in a mad house; she grieved for what she did not even know.

How could she deal with all of these things? It seemed almost unbearable, and Bella wished there was a way to lay them aside, even momentarily, just long enough to find her strength again before shouldering the burdens once more. Maybe she could ask Jasper to teach her to meditate after all.

She struggled from the maelstrom of guilt and reached out to Edward with what strength she did have.

"I love you, Edward, and I want you. Just as dearly as I always did; with all of my. . . heart, and whatever else I could possibly give."

"And I love you, so very much. I ache with it." He kissed her hand, pressed it to his chest, and bowed his head fervently over it. "I'm so sorry."

"No more sorrys, Edward," Bella said, drawing his head upward by his chin. "I can't bear for you to be guilty over a change I wanted. If you suffer, I bear the guilt twice."

Edward's eyes were glimmering gold and piercing. She could almost see her reflection in them, and her pleading somber expression.

"No more then." Edward breathed the words against her lips, and when he kissed her for that first time, she released all of her longing, and desire and desperate hope into the act. It was strangely foreign to her, this kissing. There was no more of the careful delicacy as when she was human, only a yearning for a deeper intimacy and consolation. Both, Bella admitted to herself, went unmet. Kissing Edward now, was almost like kissing a stranger, and she snuggled herself into his shoulder so he wouldn't see her fear and disappointment.

Maybe he felt it too, because Edward pulled away and cupped her cheek. It was almost as if he were reading her mind.

"I understand, Love. Lots of changes. We can take it slow."

* * * * *

Jasper gave up adjusting his boutonnière and set to straightening the white shirt under his tux jacket. He was hovering in the foyer of the river house that Esme, Carlisle, Bella, and Edward were currently sharing. Alice was upstairs with Rosalie, prepping Bella before her entry, and Jasper found it more restful at the front of the house than in the main room to the back, where an anxious Edward awaited his bride-to-be with the rest of the family. As it was, he could still hear Emmett chatting with Eleazar and Tanya, and Edward whispering with Carlisle, as he fiddled a trilling little tune on the treble end of the piano. Kate and Esme were probably out back, putting the finishing touches on the bower of roses they had dreamed up just for the occasion.

Jasper had been unsure whether Tanya and Kate would come at all. Their families hadn't come together again since Carmen and Eleazar had first met up with them in Chicago two-and-a-half years ago, and the four remaining Denali members had gone back to Alaska. It was a painful reunion back then, thought marginally less so once Bella stopped apologizing for her unwitting role in Irina's death. Since that time there had been frequent, if strained, communication with the Denali family. The wedding was going to be a delicate time for them all, but one designed toward moving on and mending fences.

Jasper turned to the mirror above the entry table, adjusted his collar, and snapped his arms to make the fabric lay right over his shoulders. Why am I so anxious? He asked himself. He couldn't simply pass it off as someone else's anxiety this time, Jasper knew it was within him.

He tried to turn his mind to his classes for the upcoming week. He was teaching night classes at Waubonsee Community College. It was a ways out of the city, which allowed him and Alice to keep a home nearer to the river house and Emmett's and Rosalie's, and also to steer clear of the downtown and its higher concentration of humans. Jasper had been uncertain about teaching at first, but found he liked it, and was able to keep his thirst in check with frequent hunts on the outskirts of the city.

To his surprise he enjoyed teaching quite a bit. Maybe he would have liked it still better had he been teaching graduate level classes, as he tired easily of undergrads who still needed their hands held and their noses wiped for them. Most of his students took his Intro to Philosophy or Logic and Critical Thinking simply because they served as prerequisites for other courses, and had no real interest in the subjects. And while that in itself was supremely frustrating, it was also thrilling to watch one of these same students _gain_ an appreciation and interest in the subjects because of his class. "That's what good teaching should be about," Alice said to him when he expressed his surprised satisfaction on the topic. Alice had actually encouraged him in the pursuit for many years before, but he might never have done it if not for Bella and their few weeks together at Denali.

Jasper wasn't the only one following a new path. Rosalie was in law school, and fully intended to practice once she passed the BAR. Emmett had enrolled again as well, in architecture, this time. Alice had just purchased an independent clothing boutique downtown, and was designing clothes in the evenings. Esme had even been volunteering at a safe house for abused women and their children.

Jasper's reflection shook its head in wonder at how much had changed, and how much they had all grown. Not for the first time he wondered if Edward's singleness had kept them living together as a family unit for so long. They weren't any less family now that they were maintaining separate residences, but Jasper wondered whether they had lived together so long, simply so Edward wouldn't feel left out. Now, they didn't have to play roles anymore, no more foster parenting or unwieldy groups of over-age high school students. Having Bella allowed the entire family some freedom; no one was abandoning Edward, and they were still a family. How odd that it was Bella who helped him to accept his own place as a member in that family.

"Don't you touch your hair. Not a finger!" Jasper heard Rosalie's admonishment just before she came sweeping down the stairs followed by Alice, who stopped to quickly tidy the flower on his chest.

"Bella wants to see you for a moment," Rosalie told him, as Alice disappeared quickly into the other room. He stared after her, wondering at the new anticipation radiating off of his mate, then turned to Rosalie who quirked her dark red lips at him, as it to say, "You'll know soon enough." _All right, then._

Jasper went upstairs and tapped a knuckle on the door at the far end of the hall.

"Come in."

He opened the door to find Bella standing in front of a full picture window. The sun pouring in from behind her reflected off her faceted skin and frosted her a shimmering glow. She saw him blinking in the brightness and stepped into the shadow of the wall.

"Oops."

Jasper chuckled.

She was as beautiful as any vampire had a right to be, but she looked suddenly anxious and smoothed the white sheath skirt over her thighs abstractedly.

"You look lovely," he told her.

She took one long breath, and her shoulders relaxed on the exhale. Her fond smile answered the one on his own lips. "Thank you. Come on in," she said, motioning for him to shut the door. Jasper caught a familiar, unpleasant scent as he entered, and it raised the hairs on the back of his neck. Werewolf. Not overpowering at least, just a faint drift of odor as his entry stirred the air in the room.

"Jake," Bella explained, seeing his reaction. "He wrote back to me." The "finally" went unsaid, and for a funny moment, Jasper appreciated the pungent, musky smell. Bella had written to her old friend several times over the past years, but as far as he knew, Jacob Black had never replied. The fact that he had reached to span that bridge now was as much a gift to Bella as a physical wedding present might be.

"He wished me a happy wedding and marriage," she continued. "And I think he meant it."

"I'm glad," Jasper said. "Is there something _I_ can do for you?"

Looking anxious again, Bella twirled one long brown curl around her finger, and pulled it free, letting it spring back to her shoulder. "I didn't think to ask you earlier because I had always thought of Charlie giving me away. Of course he can't, now. . ." she wasn't accusing, but there was a faint wistfulness in her expression, as she struggled to find the right words. "And I don't really want to be 'given' away anyway, but I thought, maybe someone could 'present' me to be married. . ."

An invisible hand squeezed something in Jasper's chest, and he could scarcely wait to hear Bella's next words, and could hardly believe it when he did. "If you would present me at my wedding, Jasper, it would mean a lot to me. Just. . . to walk with me."

He stood blinking at her, not really seeing her, just the slope of her cheek and the halo of silky hair framing her face. Time must have slipped away because Bella's face became even more anxious suddenly, "If you don't want to, I under--."

"I'd be honored," he said quickly. "I'm just really. . .touched." He managed another encouraging smile, feeling suddenly very thick-headed.

"Thank you," she breathed. "I've thought a lot about what you said when we were first in Denali. About being a 'being' and creating your soul. "_L'etre_ et _l'ame_." Sartre, right? 'Existence precedes essence."

"Yes," he said simply, wondering where Bella was going with this.

"I wanted to tell you, that I'm glad you're a part of. . . not just my existence, but. . . my _ame_." Jasper watched as Bella's hand slipped out to collect his own, and she squeezed it. He began nodding and found he couldn't stop. "I'm glad you're a part of mine." Bella blinked rapidly in reply. She wouldn't cry tears, but her body had not lost all of her human reflexes yet, and her eyes still stung with the tears that would never come. Jasper found he wanted to cry to, and would have given much if he could have.

Suddenly, Bella leaned into him, hugging him tightly, and Jasper wrapped his arms around her without having to think about it. He took a long second to take a mental snapshot, to live the moment and let it become a part of his _ame_, his essence. His soul. He would never have a daughter, and he had never even realized his own longing, or believed that his capacity to love could extend beyond Alice without taking anything from her. But, in fact, in his loving Bella, he found he could love Alice more fully. And that there was still so much love left for others. Amazing.

They parted slowly.

"Ooh!" cried Bella. A curl caught in a link of Jasper's watch, and she reached up reflexively to hold her up-do in place.

"Rosalie will put me through a meat grinder if I mess your hair up!" Jasper said, as he carefully disentangled them.

Bella laughed, and turned to the mirror to poke the wayward curl back into place.

"You're stunning, Bella. Edward's going to be beside himself," Jasper reassured her, and he was right.

Edward was completely stunned, and still as only a vampire can be, as Jasper walked Bella across the green lawn toward her husband-to-be. Jasper managed his role without a hitch and settled beside Alice who was absolutely giddy with delight. He placed a restraining hand on her bouncing leg and she gave him a dark look as if to say, "Stop killing my buzz." In front at the rose-laden bower, Edward was so lost in Bella that Carlisle had to prompt him twice to say his vows. Emmett snickered, and even Eleazar shook with silent mirth.

They had chosen the Anglican vows, not because Bella had any particular religious penchant, but because Edward didn't care either way, and Bella particularly liked the line, "With my body I thee worship."

"It just makes sense to me," she explained simply.

Alice twined her fingers into Jasper's as Carlisle pronounced them husband and wife, and Jasper's chest burned fit-to-burst at the look on Bella's face as Edward stroked her cheek after their first kiss as a married couple. It was silly, he supposed, but hadn't expected it to take him so deeply.

There was no receiving line, more like a little clot of congratulations and merriment. When Tanya turned on the pre-programmed music, the dancing began, and Jasper found he needed space again after a light little foxtrot with Esme, and he slipped away to the front of the house. The porch swing creaked amicably as rocked himself slowly with his heels. Peals of laughter still managed to float to him from the back yard. Emmett had threatened to throw Edward and Bella a shiveree, and Bella howled in amusement. Jasper could just imagine the outraged look on Edward's face that would have elicited such a response.

Edward hadn't been surprised earlier, to see Jasper at Bella's side as they came down the aisle together. Perhaps Rosalie or Alice told him what Bella had planned, but Jasper thought it might have been something more. He took a long, steadying breath as he sifted back through the changes of the last two years, and found that Bella had become a daughter of sorts to him—one not one born of blood or venom, but of choice. He hadn't meant to bite her, God knew, but they also hadn't had to forge the type of relationship they had. She came to him with problems and questions, the types of philosophical and religious questions Edward might have been ambivalent about. And she had decided against online education, for now, pursuing the life of an autodidact, but asking Jasper frequently to wrestle ideas and history with her. It was a way for them to share themselves as well, and Jasper knew he had filled the place in Bella that Carlisle served for the rest of the coven. It helped him to understand his own role in the little family, because now he had a better understanding of what it meant. Neither of them could have known the far-reaching implications of Bella's change, or how that would graft him more firmly into the vampire coven-cum-family.

Kate's voice came to him now, followed by more laughter after her rather explicit suggestions to Edward and Bella for an "amusing" wedding night, and Jasper he thought again back to those first days in Denali. _That's_ where it had begun, he decided. He whistled one long, low whistle between his teeth, wondering what specifically Alice had seen that kept half the family in Forks and the other half in Alaska. But it didn't really matter. Alice must have known that Bella was going to be more than a simple "_etre_" in Jasper's consciousness.

He dropped his head into his hands and wished again for tears to cry. Sometimes, if only for a second or two at a time, life was good. And sometimes it was painfully beautiful.

He didn't need to open his eyes to anticipate Alice's arrival. He felt her footfalls on the porch, as delicate as petals blown across a still pond.

Jasper knew then exactly why Alice had chosen the way she had. Why she had insisted Jasper stay with Bella during those first difficult weeks.

"It's later," said, not bothering to hide the satisfaction in her voice.

"It was a hell of a risk," he said, raising his eyes, but not his head.

"But it was worth it. Wasn't it?" she asked, almost cautiously.

"Yes," he said softly. "Thank you."

Alice knelt before him. She placed a kiss on the end of his nose then laid her head against his chest where, if his heart worked any longer, it would be thundering with unutterable joy.

_Fin_

**Author's Notes (Again)**

Thanks to all my readers out there. It was thinking of you that helped me get this finished. I hope this last chapter wasn't completely riddled with errors; I'm so busy I don't have a lot of time to re-read, and I've lost all shame—I just need to get this done so I can move on to other projects. If you see anything egregious, please email me and I'll fix it

Special thanks to my beta readers Ava Sinclair and SiDEADDE who are fine writers in their own right. And, if you're looking for other Twilight fic to read, I'm a huge fan of Minisinoo and her Twilight fan-fiction (and her Harry Potter and X-Men stuff too, truth be told). And, In the Blink of an Eye by thatwritr is one of my favorite Twi fan-fictions _ever_!

~Renn


	13. Chapter 13Addendum

**Author's addendum**

Thanks to all of my readers who commented and encouraged me in the writing of L'etre et L'ame.

I've just completed a brief revision of the final chapter. During the initial writing, I rushed the final chapters because of my desire to move on to some RL work. However, the abrupt ending bothered me, and it's niggled at me for the past two months. Hoping for some relief, I've gone back into the story and included a scene that I hopes smoothes out the conclusion somewhat.

None of it's Pulitzer stuff (grin) but it's an improvement.

So, if you'd like to see some better Edward/Bella resolution, it's at your fingertips, just click on Chapter 12.

Happy Holidays!

Renn


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